When I’m here in this western city, I notice the eccentricities, the differences, how the houses assert their individuality. 

Take the Coleman House, for instance. Owned by psychiatrist, author and gardener Brian Coleman, the place is a Victorian dream, cast of warm rich colors with whimsical touches — an owl, a sunflower, a turret with the Latin phrase quo amplius eo amplius (“more beyond plenty”) — and set amidst a garden that changes with the seasons.

An article in the Seattle Times tells me that this house is featured in Private Gardens of the Pacific Northwest, edited by … Brian Coleman, who does not reveal in the book that the house is his own. 

I know the houses of my northern Virginia suburb can’t be as unconventional as this one. But they could try a little harder, couldn’t they?