In the mountain forests of Altos de María, La Curumbita occupies an exceptional site—secluded, utterly private, without a single neighboring structure in sight. The property borders a protected natural reserve, and what defines it most is isolation: no roads visible, no rooftops interrupting the horizon, only layered mountain ridges extending into the distance. The elevation is high enough that clouds drift through at eye level, and the temperature remains cool year-round. Here, privacy is absolute, and the only sounds are the wind through pines and the occasional call of mountain birds.

The residence was conceived as a retreat for a Panamanian family seeking connection—across generations, across time spent apart in the city. The brief called for spacious rooms that could accommodate extended stays, outdoor spaces designed to hold large gatherings, and a sense of permanence that would allow the house to become a repository for shared memory. A place where children would return as adults, where rituals could take root.

Built upon the foundation of the W2 model, the design expands outward rather than upward, following the natural topography to maximize views from every room. The defining gesture is the oversized roofed terrace—a generous extension that transforms the residence into an open-air pavilion. Floor-to-ceiling sliding glass panels dissolve the facade entirely, erasing the threshold between interior and exterior. The terrace becomes the heart of the home: hammocks suspend over the void, deep-set chairs frame views of the fire pit and distant peaks, and the spatial generosity allows the family to gather without constraint. Below, an infinity pool extends toward the horizon, its edge lined with natural stone selected to echo the shifting tones of the sky—gray at dawn, silver at midday, soft violet at dusk.

Materiality reinforces the connection to place. Portuguese ceramic tiles define the expansive deck, their surface refined yet durable enough to withstand mountain weather. The fire pit is carved into the landscape with built-in seating, grounding the experience of being outdoors. The surrounding grounds were carefully composed by Hiedra y Bambú, layering native plantings into the existing forest to amplify rather than impose upon the site's natural character. A working huerto provides fresh vegetables and herbs, while chickens roam freely across the property—small gestures toward self-sufficiency that ground the residence in a quieter, more deliberate rhythm of life.

Here, the architecture withdraws. It does not announce itself but rather frames what already exists: the uninterrupted views, the sense of being held by the mountain, the rare luxury of true seclusion. La Curumbita becomes a place where time operates differently—slower, more attuned to the cycles of weather and light, where the mountain is not scenery but companion.