The Soul Beneath Our Feet — Why Country Flooring Is More Than Just Surface
There’s something poetic about the floors in a country home. They are not simply surfaces for walking—they are chapters of a story. In the stillness of rural life, the floor becomes the first contact point with nature, with memory, and with meaning. Unlike slick modern finishes that speak of detachment, country flooring is rooted. It evokes a quiet dialogue between past and present, between weathered beauty and timeless design.
Country flooring is not about shine or sheen. It’s about the raw honesty of material. You can feel it with every step—the warmth of wood warmed by morning sun, the creak of age-old planks under your soles, the way dust settles softly in its corners like memories tucked into the pages of a diary. It reflects not just a visual aesthetic, but a way of living. It speaks to those who choose slowness over speed, presence over polish.
When entering a country-style home, the flooring whispers of lives well-lived. You don’t see just a polished product; you feel echoes of boots thudding through after long days in the field, children racing barefoot, a dog trailing muddy paws after a spring rain. This is flooring that welcomes life in all its mess and majesty. The foundation is not sterile—it’s storied.
And in a world obsessed with sleek minimalism, there’s something radical and comforting about that imperfection. The scratches, the patina, the wear—they’re not flaws. They are reminders that the space is loved and lived in. Country flooring invites you to come in, take off your shoes, and stay a while.
A Language of Texture — Reclaimed Wood, Heritage Grain, and the Art of Imperfection
One of the most distinctive traits of countryside flooring is its texture. Unlike engineered surfaces designed for uniformity, true country-style floors celebrate irregularity. They let the wood tell its story, knot by knot, grain by grain. Each board feels like a relic from a past life—an old barn, a schoolhouse, a century-old farmhouse where generations passed under the same roof.
Reclaimed wood holds particular allure here. Salvaged from demolished barns, factories, or rural outposts, these boards have a soul. Their scuffs and dents, their weathered tones, and oxidized nail holes are not erased but embraced. They provide a sense of grounding—literal and emotional. This is not just sustainability at work; it’s a practice in reverence. We are, in effect, placing our present lives atop the footprints of history.
But not every homeowner can source or afford reclaimed timber, and yet the spirit of the look can be captured with today’s advanced flooring technologies. High-definition laminates and luxury vinyl planks mimic the grain of aged oak or hickory so convincingly that even seasoned carpenters pause for a second glance. These materials bring accessibility without compromising the aesthetic value. You still get the wide planks, the tactile quality, and the grainy elegance that defines country interiors.
Consider the visual power of a distressed pine floor stretching across a kitchen that smells of bread and wildflowers. Or the cozy complexity of dark walnut in a living room bathed in the orange light of sunset. These images are not accidents—they’re the result of conscious design choices rooted in the language of the earth. You are not merely designing a room; you are curating a feeling, a texture, a tone.
The country floor is never just background—it’s a character in the room. It doesn’t just complement the furniture or the walls; it collaborates with them. And like all great collaborators, it brings depth and dimension without demanding attention. Its strength is in its quietude, its grounding presence.
From Hearth to Horizon — The Emotional Landscape of Farmhouse Flooring
It’s one thing to talk about aesthetics and material performance, but country flooring holds emotional resonance that goes far deeper than design trends. In rural life, where isolation and vastness meet, the floor is a tether—a kind of comforting threshold between the expanse outside and the intimacy inside.
Take the image of a stone hearth surrounded by wide plank floors, their edges softened by time. These are not just visuals of comfort—they are symbols of continuity. The same floor that supported yesterday’s burdens now welcomes today’s peace. It is a landscape where seasons pass and lives unfold, from the tap of winter boots to the hush of summer mornings.
The floor, in this context, is emotionally instructive. It teaches us to appreciate groundedness, to cherish the idea of return. Every nick and scrape is evidence of living. There’s beauty in the notion that we don’t have to keep starting over; we can build upon what came before. A scratch on a polished tile might be seen as damage, but on a farmhouse plank, it’s a detail of a life well-traveled.
This is why so many designers return to natural woods when building out a countryside palette. It’s not just about how they look—it’s about how they feel, how they sound, even how they smell. There is a scent to real wood floors that no synthetic version can imitate. It’s the aroma of resin and earth, of timber warmed by the sun and cooled by the night. That scent enters the psyche. It anchors us.
When you walk across true country flooring, you walk on something that has aged with grace. And as you do, you are reminded that you, too, are allowed to age, to evolve, to carry the wear and still be beautiful. It is flooring that is inherently forgiving, that understands life is not about flawlessness but about fullness.
Modern Echoes of Tradition — Making Country Flooring Accessible for All Homes
Country flooring is not only for those lucky enough to own a sprawling farmhouse or a mountain cabin. Its spirit can be translated into any home, urban or suburban, compact or expansive. What defines this style is not location—it’s intention.
Today’s technology has made it possible for even the most modern condos to evoke countryside warmth. Engineered wood, which is more stable and often more cost-effective than solid hardwood, allows for the installation of wide planks in moisture-sensitive spaces like kitchens and basements. These planks still carry the wide, relaxed profile and deep graining of traditional boards, yet they do so with better resilience and easier care.
Even ceramic tiles now come in wood-look finishes, offering durability in climates or homes where real wood might be impractical. The illusion is so effective that the texture, knots, and warmth are nearly indistinguishable from actual timber underfoot. For families with pets, children, or frequent foot traffic, these modern materials are a godsend. They bridge the old and the new—offering farmhouse aesthetics with contemporary performance.
Then there’s color. Country floors aren’t limited to the typical honey and walnut tones. Whitewashed planks, greige finishes, and even smoked ash have found a place in the modern country home. These lighter palettes can brighten smaller spaces while still retaining that rustic charm. Layer them with woven rugs, wool runners, or jute mats to further ground the aesthetic.
The truth is, you don’t need a farmhouse to feel the warmth of one. You need only to make thoughtful choices—to opt for materials that tell a story, textures that invite touch, and finishes that encourage everyday living rather than stiff preservation. It’s about curating a backdrop for life to unfold.
And that’s the quiet genius of country flooring. It doesn’t just fill space—it frames it. It gives the room not only a foundation but a heartbeat. Whether you’re sipping tea on a rainy afternoon or dancing barefoot through a golden hour glow, it holds you up, supports your stories, and honors the beauty of being home.
The Grounding Spirit of Stone — Embracing the Ancient Pulse of the Earth
There is something profoundly spiritual about stone. Unlike wood, which speaks of life, growth, and memory, stone whispers of permanence, of time before time. When brought into the home as flooring, it offers more than visual texture—it grounds the space in ancient calm. It is the very embodiment of stillness.
In country-inspired homes, where connection to nature is central, stone flooring serves as an anchor. It is not just another material option. It is a philosophy. It is the mountain that doesn’t move, the riverbed that has shaped generations. Walking across a floor of slate or limestone isn’t just a functional experience—it’s a sensory communion with the elements. It reminds us that our lives, no matter how modern, are layered atop geological history.
Stone floors hold a resonance that wood does not. They don’t creak with emotion; they hum with strength. There is humility in choosing stone, a kind of reverence for what endures. In an age obsessed with speed and digital immersion, stone brings us back to the raw and the tactile. Its coolness beneath the feet on a hot summer day reminds us that comfort can be quiet. Its surface, sometimes uneven, encourages us to tread more mindfully.
Slate, granite, and limestone each have their own voice. Slate is rugged, earthy, and rich with layered tones of blue, green, and rust. Granite, often flecked with crystals, speaks of grandeur and timeless resilience. Limestone, soft in appearance but resilient in structure, feels like walking through the halls of a sun-warmed villa. Each tile, each slab, is nature’s artwork—never duplicated, always distinct.
In country homes, stone doesn’t need to shout. It does not beg for polish or perfection. Its strength is in its restraint, in its timelessness. Whether laid in wide flagstones across a hearth-centered living room or in smaller tumbled tiles throughout a farmhouse kitchen, it brings the elemental indoors—quietly and confidently.
From Winding Paths to Interior Reveries — Stone as Memory and Metaphor
To lay stone beneath your feet is to trace the paths of ancient civilizations. Think of Roman courtyards paved with marble, of old-world villages with cobblestone alleys, of desert sanctuaries built from sandstone and granite. These stones are not only construction materials—they are memory holders. Their weight is not just physical but symbolic.
When used in interior design, particularly in countryside homes, stone becomes a medium of metaphor. It tells stories without needing to be explained. It speaks of endurance, of simplicity, of strength that doesn’t require embellishment. In a world of fast interiors and fleeting trends, stone quietly asserts its own pace. It reminds us to slow down, to tread thoughtfully, to dwell deeply.
A stone floor isn’t merely a platform—it is a presence. When arranged in random patterns or honed into mosaic-like repetition, it creates rhythm. And not the rhythm of machines or urban life, but the organic, uneven rhythm of nature. That is its true gift—it resists uniformity. It resists mass production. It insists on individuality.
There is poetry in a floor that echoes a cobblestone street or an old monastery passage. You’re not just installing a finish; you’re invoking a time, a sensibility, a kind of sacred stillness. And unlike synthetic materials that must be replaced when they age, stone welcomes time. It becomes smoother, softer, and more storied with every footstep. The subtle polish from decades of use becomes its finishing touch.
Country homes that incorporate stone floors are not simply aiming for aesthetics—they are crafting interior landscapes. These are environments where the floors feel as old as the hills outside, where silence rests between stones like dew in morning crevices. Such design is not just visual—it is philosophical. It says: here, we honor the earth by walking gently upon it.
Cool in Summer, Warm in Winter — The Sensory Dialogue of Stone
Stone engages the senses with a nuanced dialogue. It surprises us with contrasts. In the summer, stepping barefoot onto stone evokes feelings of relief and clarity. The coolness underfoot is reminiscent of river stones shaded by forest canopies or the shaded porches of old southern homes. In winter, that same stone—fitted with underfloor heating—offers the opposite: warmth radiating upward like the memory of a sun-baked ledge.
This duality is what makes stone so emotionally compelling. It doesn’t impose; it responds. It listens to the seasons and adapts. It doesn’t remain static. It breathes, slowly, in step with nature. And in country homes, where the boundary between interior and exterior is often fluid, that responsiveness is essential.
There’s also an auditory beauty to stone. The subtle tap of a pet’s nails, the soft tread of slippers, the sound of a chair leg gently scraping across its surface—all of it becomes a soundtrack of quiet domestic life. Unlike carpeting, which swallows sound, or laminate, which can echo harshly, stone tempers noise into something intimate and reflective.
Texture also plays a vital role. Honed stone feels soft and satin-like, while tumbled finishes carry the charm of erosion. There are surfaces that mimic aged flagstone with softly chipped edges and others that look like they were lifted straight from ancient abbeys. No matter the finish, stone offers more than a place to walk. It offers a place to feel. It touches back.
And because of its sensory range, stone floors enhance mindfulness. One becomes aware of the body in motion. One notices the shift in light, the fall of shadows across each groove and grain. Even sweeping or mopping becomes less of a chore and more of a ritual. You are, in essence, caring for something older than you are—something that will likely outlast you.
Practical Romance — Ceramic, Porcelain, and the Poetry of Imitation
Not every homeowner can—or wants to—install natural stone. But that does not mean the essence of stone must be abandoned. Today’s ceramic and porcelain tiles are marvels of design engineering. They replicate the look of real stone so convincingly that only the most trained eyes detect the difference. And they do so while offering ease, durability, and affordability.
In country-style homes, porcelain tiles designed to look like aged marble or sun-bleached limestone can be transformative. Their matte surfaces and natural veining echo real stone with haunting precision. Installed in rustic kitchens or earthy mudrooms, they bring all the charm of heritage without the high maintenance. They resist stains, endure spills, and clean with a sweep. Yet they do not compromise on elegance.
Then there are terracotta-style tiles—baked clay squares that call to mind Mediterranean farmhouses and old mission-style kitchens. Their dusty reds and browns, especially when laid in herringbone or basketweave patterns, bring not only color but narrative. They suggest warmth, cooking, gathering. These floors are not just surfaces—they are stages for everyday rituals.
Checkerboard tile patterns, once staples of vintage diners and black-and-white bathrooms, have returned with nostalgic sophistication. In a country home, these patterns—whether high-contrast or in muted earth tones—bring a sense of play. They flirt with memory. They summon visions of grandmother’s kitchens, of antique stores filled with curiosities, of small-town pharmacies where the past lingers.
Even smaller decorative tiles have a place in country-inspired interiors. Used as accents in entryways, hearth surrounds, or backsplashes, they mimic the intricacy of folk embroidery, quilt patterns, or Victorian wallpapers. They remind us that detail matters—that beauty often resides in corners, thresholds, and edges.
So while stone remains the emotional foundation, ceramic and porcelain provide the means to interpret that emotion practically. They are the poetry of imitation—not in the sense of being fake, but in the way that a painting captures the essence of a landscape without duplicating it. These tiles offer a bridge between the wild beauty of natural stone and the real-life needs of a modern home.
Remembering What Once Was — The Silent Return of Linoleum
In the great sweep of design history, some materials vanish only to return with quiet insistence, reborn for a new generation. Linoleum is one such material. Once a staple of hardworking kitchens, service corridors, and public spaces, it has long lived in the shadows—dismissed as dated, unremarkable, or even disposable. Yet those who understand its legacy know better. Linoleum was never merely practical. It was poetic in its resilience, democratic in its affordability, and ahead of its time in ecological mindfulness.
The return of linoleum is not about nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. It’s about rediscovery. Today’s homeowners are searching for flooring that not only serves functionally but also tells a story. Linoleum, with its roots in 19th-century innovation and its heyday in early 20th-century homes, carries the weight of memory without the burden of modern excess. It offers a kind of restrained charm—a visual wink to the past while remaining fully adaptable to present-day needs.
In country homes, where heritage whispers from every wooden beam and sun-faded curtain, linoleum finds a natural fit. It doesn’t try to mimic stone or wood. It dares to be itself—patterned, smooth, soft beneath the feet. Its aesthetic is quiet but confident, and when paired with the right textures—weathered wood cabinetry, porcelain sinks, gingham curtains—it sings.
This return isn’t just a trend. It’s part of a broader movement—a reclamation of materials that value substance over spectacle. Linoleum reminds us that even the humblest elements of a home can carry extraordinary presence. It is proof that beauty lives not just in what is seen, but in how something feels beneath you, how it ages alongside you, how it stays.
Texture with Intention — The Vintage Magic of Comfort and Character
What makes linoleum so compelling in today’s interiors, especially those designed with a country spirit, is not only its aesthetic potential but also its physical comfort. In a world full of hard edges and noise, linoleum offers softness. Not in the plush sense of a rug, but in the forgiving way it meets your footfall. It yields slightly. It welcomes. It remembers.
There’s something to be said for a floor that doesn’t punish the body. For kitchens where standing is constant, or for laundry rooms where chores stretch into hours, linoleum makes the labor lighter. That practicality once made it the darling of 1930s and 1940s homemakers who danced across floral-printed floors while listening to radios crackling with the sounds of jazz. It was the flooring of optimism, of postwar resilience, of family breakfasts and handwritten recipes.
That spirit still lingers. Modern iterations of linoleum capture that optimism with renewed style. Checkerboard patterns in deep green and cream or rich ochre and ivory instantly evoke a sense of place. These are the palettes of old pharmacies, schoolhouses, and train station waiting rooms—places where life moved more slowly, where time wore things in, not out.
Floral motifs, once dismissed as kitsch, are now being reinterpreted as joyful declarations. A linoleum floor covered in tiny roses or twisting vines can transform a powder room into a garden fantasy or lend a sunroom the feel of a secret hideaway. These patterns don’t demand attention—they invite it. They are not statements. They are conversations.
And the color options extend far beyond retro red or hospital blue. Today’s linoleum comes in dusky pinks, stormy grays, soft celadons, and clay tones that feel lifted from the surrounding earth. This opens a world of design for those crafting homes that are rooted, personal, and intentional.
The Story Underfoot — Sustainability, Craft, and Legacy in Modern Linoleum
To speak of linoleum without acknowledging its eco-conscious soul would be to miss its most noble virtue. Long before sustainable design became a movement, linoleum was already leading the way. Composed from natural, biodegradable materials—linseed oil, cork dust, wood flour, and jute—it is among the most environmentally friendly flooring options available today. It is, quite literally, born of the earth.
In country homes, where connection to nature is more than aesthetic—where it is a way of life—this matters deeply. Choosing linoleum is not simply a design decision. It is a value statement. It’s a choice to invest in the future by respecting the past. It is choosing craftsmanship over consumption, durability over disposability.
Linoleum’s composition also ensures that it wears gracefully. Unlike synthetic vinyl, which can peel and warp with age, linoleum develops a patina. It doesn’t degrade—it transforms. The surface becomes a map of footsteps, light exposure, and life lived. And because the color runs through the entire material—not just the surface—it never looks worn out. It looks lived in.
That endurance makes it ideal for rooms that see real life. Country kitchens bustling with muddy boots, paws, and produce baskets. Back hallways where coats hang and memories gather. Children’s bedrooms where the lines between play, rest, and learning blur. Linoleum holds up without holding you back.
Even installation has evolved. While older linoleum required glues and complicated processes, modern options can be installed as tiles or sheets with click-and-lock mechanisms or floating floor systems. This allows homeowners to craft detailed designs—diamonds, stripes, or even custom inlays—that elevate their space from merely functional to quietly extraordinary.
And here’s the hidden magic: unlike most trendy materials, linoleum never tries too hard. It doesn’t need to. It is secure in its legacy, comfortable in its modesty, and capable of far more elegance than it is often given credit for.
The Charm of Customization — Personal Touches and the Freedom of Pattern
At its core, linoleum offers a rare gift: creative freedom. In the age of mass-market flooring options that strive for uniformity, linoleum says, “Make it your own.” It encourages experimentation, play, and personality. This is why it has become a favorite once more—not just among preservationists and vintage lovers, but among those who crave soul in their spaces.
In country-themed homes, where whimsy and tradition often intermingle, this ability to personalize is invaluable. Imagine a laundry room outfitted with a sage green linoleum floor, trimmed with a delicate border of hand-painted tiles. Or a pantry with mustard yellow flooring that echoes the glaze of heirloom ceramic jars lining the shelves.
There is something so satisfying in standing in a room and knowing that every square foot reflects your intention. Linoleum allows that. It doesn’t impose its will—it adapts to yours.
Checkerboards remain a classic for good reason. Whether in black and cream, dusty rose and clay, or navy and flax, they bring order and rhythm to a room without overpowering it. They are traditional without being stiff. In a kitchen, they feel like a waltz underfoot. In a bathroom, they bring old-world charm with crisp modernity.
Smaller tiles or linoleum cut into unusual shapes allow for unique designs that mimic quilt patterns or botanical illustrations. Imagine a mudroom floor styled to resemble a patchwork quilt, each tile a soft echo of another, telling a story through tone and repetition.
Even monochromatic floors can be expressive. A solid color linoleum in robin’s egg blue or milk chocolate brown can be the grounding element in a richly textured space filled with lace curtains, vintage wallpaper, or brass light fixtures. Linoleum becomes the visual quiet that allows other elements to speak more clearly.
And let us not forget: linoleum is not only for traditional country homes. Its versatility makes it a perfect companion for eclectic, transitional, and even modern farmhouse interiors. It bridges eras. It softens trends. It tells stories in the background while supporting your life in the foreground.
The Soft Embrace — How Rugs Complete the Story of a Floor
A floor, no matter how beautifully crafted in wood, stone, or linoleum, remains incomplete until it is softened by layers that speak to the soul. Rugs and runners are not simply decorative touches in a country home. They are the quiet finish, the emotional punctuation that brings the room from constructed to complete. They lend softness, yes—but they also offer memory, nostalgia, and intimacy.
Walking across a wool rug is different from walking across a bare floor. The body responds immediately—the joints loosen, the breath slows, and the sensation underfoot becomes an act of self-care. In a rustic interior where textures reign supreme, a rug adds more than visual beauty. It brings comfort that transcends the physical. It says, you belong here. It whispers warmth.
In the countryside, where seasons shape our daily rhythms, rugs serve not just as adornments but as functional allies. A jute rug by the doorway absorbs the damp of spring rains. A flatweave wool runner in the hallway muffles the footsteps of hurried mornings. A thick, plush kilim in the bedroom becomes a daily ritual—the first touch of the day and the last before sleep.
And then there is the layered rug—the rug over wood, over tile, over linoleum. This is where the real storytelling begins. The juxtaposition of handmade against machine-pressed, of soft against hard, of pattern against grain, creates depth. It invites the eye to pause, to linger. In a country home, that invitation is sacred. It reminds us to look down, to feel our surroundings, to notice the life happening in textures beneath our feet.
Threads of Tradition — Weaving History into the Modern Country Home
Country homes are rarely about what’s new. They are about what lasts. They are less concerned with trend and more with timeline, with what connects us backward and forward. In this sense, rugs become time machines. A vintage rag rug, its colors slightly faded by decades of sun, brings with it the warmth of every foot that’s ever stepped upon it. A quilt-patterned runner speaks to generations of hands that once sewed for survival, for beauty, for love.
Wool, cotton, and jute are the natural fibers that resonate most in this narrative. Each has a character, a language. Wool is insulating, enduring, forgiving. Cotton is light, clean, and full of breath. Jute speaks the language of the earth—rough, grounded, honest. These are not synthetic stories. They are real, worn, and weathered with grace.
To lay one of these rugs in a space is to insert a piece of poetry into the room. Not the kind printed on wall signs or throw pillows, but the kind written in touch and tone. A buffalo check area rug in front of a crackling fireplace speaks of holidays long gone and still to come. A floral runner winding through a galley kitchen brings back the scent of jam on the stove and clinking teaspoons. A braided oval in a dining nook anchors generations of Sunday mornings.
And when rugs are chosen with intention—not just to match but to resonate—the effect is transformative. They connect the architecture to the atmosphere. They become the bridge between the structure and the soul. Every thread becomes a filament of memory, and in the best country homes, memory is the most luxurious material of all.
Layers of Silence — The Sound of Softness and the Music of Mindful Design
What many forget when designing a home is that silence, too, has texture. It can echo or it can comfort. Rugs are not only there to cushion your feet but to hush the chaos. In country homes, where old floors creak and tall ceilings magnify sound, a rug’s ability to soften acoustics becomes essential. It doesn’t silence a room—it warms it.
The muffled sound of a child running down a hallway. The quiet hush of a chair being pulled out from a table. The absence of echo in a bedroom filled with books and memories. These are not trivial details. They are the unseen, unheard comforts that define home. And they are all achieved not through drywall or drapery but through the subtle embrace of a well-placed rug.
In a way, rugs function like emotional insulation. Just as they shield us from cold tile or hard timber, they buffer us from overstimulation. In homes where the view through every window is a poem of hills, fields, or sky, the interior must offer reprieve. Rugs do this gently. They do not interrupt—they absorb. They catch the moments that would otherwise bounce, and they hold them quietly in place.
Even color can be a form of silence. A soft moss-green rug in a sunroom full of plants becomes an echo of the outside world—a kind of living carpet. A faded indigo runner along a hallway acts like dusk beneath your feet, quieting your pace. These are not loud designs. They are meditative. They do not demand attention, but they change the way you move through space.
This relationship between flooring and emotional resonance is often overlooked. But in a country home, where one’s senses are fully engaged, it becomes impossible to ignore. The rug becomes not a prop, but a presence. A companion to your thoughts, your footsteps, and your stillness.
The Deeper Meaning — Flooring as a Vessel of Values and Intentions
Let us now consider the floor not as a component, but as a canvas. Everything that touches it—rug, chair, pet, person—adds to its portrait. It is, in many ways, the most honest part of a home. It bears the weight of life without complaint. It holds every scuff, spill, and scrape without erasing the past. And when a rug is placed upon it, the dialogue begins.
The choice of a rug in a country home is rarely aesthetic alone. It is about heritage, sustainability, craft, and comfort. When one chooses a handwoven wool rug from a women’s cooperative or a vintage piece found at a market tucked between old books and brass candlesticks, that choice carries weight. It is a decision that reflects values—supporting artisans, rejecting fast interiors, embracing imperfection.
Here, we can reflect more deeply on what that means. In a modern world driven by algorithmic sameness, choosing a rug with a soul is a radical act. It says, I care about where things come from. It says, I want my home to reflect my ethics, not just my style. It says, I believe in the longevity of beautiful things.
Each rug becomes a manifesto. A pattern chosen not to impress guests but to mirror one’s inner landscape. A color is selected not because it is popular, but because it stirs something remembered. In this way, a rug is not an accessory—it is a record. It documents moods, milestones, and mundane miracles. The baby's first crawl, the tea spilled during a difficult conversation, the paws of a dog now long gone.
This is the true beauty of country-style flooring. It is not flawless, but it is faithful. It supports your daily rituals. It catches your weary feet. It holds the shape of your life without judgment. And in doing so, it becomes more than beautiful. It becomes beloved.