I have been obsessively looking at these two images for the last few days, and today I realized they are exactly the same color palette, only in different proportion.
I would like to live in either one, but especially the second image, which looks like what I imagine my father's summers in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, looked like as a kid. The first image is a piece of a Vuillard painting. If suddenly all of the colors in the world were reduced to those in these two pictures, I think I wouldn't mind. It reminds me of something my Great Aunt Bernadine told me once, a lesson from a man she studied under, the colorist Joseph Albers:
That all color is nothing more than proportion, that the relation of things in scale is more important than any single element. I think she told me this when I was twelve, and though I've forgotten whatever stupid math I was studying that year, this more useful lesson has stayed.