BEDFORD -- On the breeze-swept porch of a country home fashioned from two restored log houses, Rob Brandegee sketches quickly on a sunny July morning.

A blue heron he calls Hercules stands on a nearby dock, dipping its beak into a pond and performing avian sun salutations. The graceful bird strikes more poses than a yoga instructor and the furniture designer captures many of them on paper.

A savvy scavenger of old logs and barn wood that he recycles into striking, eclectic furniture, Mr. Brandegee bought this property with his wife, Ada, in 1995 and turned it into a wooded retreat. Both dealers of antiques and folk art, the Brandegees share a South Side loft when they're not traveling. They wanted a second home in Bedford because it's about halfway between Pittsburgh and Baltimore and Washington, D.C., two regular stops.

Fourteen years ago, they found one log home in a Post-Gazette real estate ad. By the time they had reached Hagers­town, Md., the couple had committed to buying 136 acres and the abandoned structure built in 1840. Set in a pristine, rocky valley, the land is framed by steep hillsides and watered by a clear stream that feeds Wills Creek.

"It had been a hunting camp. They had shaved the wood on the windows' edges so they could shoot deer," Mr. Brandegee recalled.

The first floor held four useless cook stoves and a bathroom in the middle of a tiny living room. The second floor housed 15 beds -- a hunters flophouse. Hornets buzzed around a dirty, dusty attic. There was an outhouse and one peony bush growing on the shale-filled soil. The land had been farmed and there were no trees on the three acres closest to the house.

"We didn't even know where to start," Mrs. Brandegee recalled.

But her husband had great appreciation for the hard work done by settlers who cleared land and farmed here during the 18th and 19th centuries. He had a vision:

"I knew what this place could be. We took it down to the logs," Mr. Brandegee said, adding that the dusty rose color of the new chinking, which contrasts beautifully with the dark brown logs, is due to the reddish dirt from the stream bed.

The home's original owners may have been named Wagaman. A neighbor who has since died brought the Brandegees a stack of Civil War-era letters the Wagaman son wrote to his father during the bloody conflict before he was killed. The early owners wouldn't recognize their land today.

After negotiating a winding dirt road, a visitor arrives at a clearing and sees wooden sculptures of morel mushrooms that dot the open porch and property. These wonderful pieces were carved with a chainsaw by the couple's caretaker, Bob Willison.

The scenic setting, 20 miles south of Bedford, is tranquil. Near the pond and lower house, the Brandegees planted birches and weeping and corkscrew willows. The front garden holds lush white hydrangea bushes and is framed by a split rail fence. Three wooden bridges arch over the stream.

To enter the lower log house, you step onto an open porch that has a green swing with heart-shaped cutouts. The permanent greeter is a whimsical dog sculpture created by the late Butch Quinn of Oil City. The dog's tail is a screwdriver, its body is a log and orange spoons form its ears. Inside, you'll find a dining room warmed by a log-burning fireplace.

"It was the all-purpose room for the original inhabitants," Mrs. Brandegee said.

The long dining table was made from an early 19th-century Sheraton-style base topped by a chalkboard from a music class; the treble and bass clef are still visible. Surrounding the table are red and black, steel-framed, plastic handkerchief chairs designed by Massimo Vignelli.

The well-designed kitchen features inconspicuous white IKEA cabinets, a stove, dishwasher and plenty of cabinets for blue Willow ware. A floor cloth, painted on heavy sail canvas by Kay Graham of Carlisle, bears images of birds, animals and symbols from nature.

Beyond the kitchen is a screened-in porch that overlooks the pond and red shale patio. It's a perfect spot for watching the cardinals, indigo buntings and pileated woodpeckers that visit.

A master suite and full bath are on the second floor. Originally, the couple stayed here but now use it for weekend guests. The Brandegrees' quarters are above the living room in the upper log house. Another bedroom with a skylight is on the third floor of the lower log house.

The couple hired Jim Whisner, a master craftsman who worked on 18th-century buildings at Historic Bedford Village, to restore, rewire and plumb both log houses. Watching Mr. Whisner notch and mortise the wooden beams informed Mr. Brandegee's furniture making.

A year after they bought the property, a flood dredged up mammoth reddish-gray flagstones. One of the biggest became the hearth stone in a living room fireplace in the upper log house. Others were used for the patio. That same year, in a valley five miles away, the Brandegees found the other log house.

"We were driving down the road and it was falling down. [The owners] were happy to get it out of there," Mrs. Brandegee said.

The couple call the space that links the two houses the hyphen, which is 10 feet wide and holds a tin pie safe and doors on either end. Climb six stairs and you'll find an enchanting living room with a bay window that overlooks the large back garden. This room's comfortable furniture is swathed in Swedish rag rugs; paintings by self-taught Pittsburgh artists Frederick Wagner and William West hang on the walls.

Look in any direction and you will see contrast. In the bay window sits a sleek white Mid-Century Modern table designed by Eero Saarinen. Seated at the table are two curly maple chairs with saber legs. Nearby are two twig rockers. There's also a corner cupboard and an 18th-century slant front desk.

This living room holds lamps Mr. Brandegee made from artifacts that include hand-hammered iron gimbals from a ship and a tin map case.

The couple love this home because it combines their eclectic tastes with the beauty of its natural setting. For Mr. Brandegee, "just sitting and watching Herkie" is a mesmerizing floor show of the best kind.