I woke from a lucid dream in which I was standing at French doors inside a room in a house with dark hardwood floors. The multi-paned windows with white wood muntins gave the doors a look from the past. Sun shining through the windowed doors brightened the room. Through these doors, I was gazing at a yard with several trees, smiling at the tranquil scene. Now wide-awake, I thought, if only I could find a place like this.

***

Life’s plans don’t always play out the way we want them to. After living in apartments all my adult life until I reached midlife, I finally bought my first home—a spacious townhouse-style condominium. It was supposed to be my forever home; yet after eleven years, I was hit with unexpected financial hardship. Unable to refinance, I came to the hard conclusion that the only way to gain financial stability was to sell.

After putting my condo on the market, I put into motion finding another place to live. Real estate sales prices in Laguna Beach had become out of reach; yet I loved Laguna’s artsy vibe and small-town way of life, and I’d become rooted in the community. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. After signing the listing agreement, my realtor, Cherie, offered to help me find a rental. She suggested I make list of must-haves for my next place.

My despair began to lift as I pondered the possibilities. I’d always had a passion for charming older homes.  I thought about the historic houses in neighborhoods surrounding downtown that oozed with charm. Maybe I could start over in a vintage cottage within walking distance of downtown! I went big with my list: A house or apartment built in the 1930s to 1950s; lots of windows; hardwood floors; a yard or patio; a porch is a plus; must allow cats; quiet neighborhood; rent within my budget; and within walking distance to downtown and the beach. Cherie smiled. She already had a few places in mind.

Cherie showed me a few apartments that were charming, but not right. I didn’t expect to attain everything on my wish list, but certain elements, such as my own outdoor space and location were critical. Then a house came on the rental market and the tenants were moving out the same time my escrow was closing. Cherie had been the rental agent for this property several years prior, and described it as perfect for me—a cottage in the historic “Tree Streets” neighborhood located a half-mile from downtown. Every street was named after trees. The neighborhood was quaint, but I was holding out for a place a little closer to downtown. I told her I’d pass.

I’d still not found a place and escrow was closing in three weeks. Cherie kept nudging me to look at the house in the Tree Streets neighborhood. She emailed me photos of its interior that she’d taken the last time it was on the market.

The image from my recent dream was captured in these photos of a tiny cottage built in 1922 with sun-lit rooms and dark hardwood floors, casement windows and French doors that opened to a porch. The porch stairs led to a paver patio and a yard adorned with several trees.

We scheduled a tour for the next day. I had to find out if dreams do come true…