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Gerald Sheff decided his six grandchildren needed a tree house. He wanted the kids, all under age 15, to have an adult-free zone during trips to grandpa's cottage in northern Ontario.

Then Mr. Sheff saw the completed three-story sanctuary suspended in poplar trees, complete with a rooftop deck, separate bedroom and panoramic view of Lake Muskoka.

“I sleep there,” admits the CEO of a Toronto investment firm. “It's wonderful.”

Tree houses usually bring to mind creaky childhood hangouts, rope ladders and signs that read, “No girls allowed!” But increasingly, adults are climbing into the leaves, seeking not only the quiet solitude of nature but creature comforts as well.

In the past few years, offices, spas, honeymoon suites and even luxury homes with claw-foot bathtubs have moved skyward, aided by tree house architects, engineers, and timber framers who build tree houses across North America and Europe. Builders are using top-of-the-line materials and designs to install stainless steel kitchens, electricity and air conditioning in tree houses that can cost upward of $375,000.

“Now and then, we sort of go over-the-top and say, ‘Oh man, is this really a tree house?' ” says Peter Nelson, author of several tree house books and owner of Treehouse Workshop, a building company in Seattle. This year the company plans to build 25 tree houses, up from 10 in 2004.

As deluxe tree houses for grown-ups proliferate – there are now more than 300 in the United States, according to World Treehouse Conference organizer Michael Garnier – their functions are becoming more diverse. “People have become more aware of what we can create out of a tree,” said Stuart Hadwin, sales director for Scotland's Treehouse Company, whose massive high-end structures retail for a minimum of $38,000. Homeowners make up half their sales, Mr. Hadwin says, but the company has seen a recent jump in commercial orders for tree house villages, hotels, offices and spas.

In Canada, a handful of tree house suites are available to vacationers on the West Coast, where towering conifers and a green vibe make them a natural fit.

Earlier this week, a Quebec entrepreneur vowed to appeal a provincial decision that blocked her plans to build luxury tree house resort in an old-growth forest south of Montreal. If Natalie Laberge's proposal takes root, her resort will offer spa treatments, blueberry-picking outings and cycling tours.

So why are more adults being lured into canopies? Tree house enthusiasts say it's a combination of the desire to get back to nature, peace and quiet, and for some, a dose of childhood memories.

“It's such a magical environment,” says Tom Chudleigh, who runs a tree house bed and breakfast on Vancouver Island. His unique rooms are orb-shaped, made of Sitka spruce and suspended by ropes over the forest floor. “You break contact with the ground and get up where the birds live,” says Mr. Chudleigh, who's planning another tree house where guests can have massages. “It's a place where humans don't normally go.”

Mr. Nelson and his business partner have built dozens of deluxe tree houses everywhere from Cape Cod to Salt Spring Island. Over the years, Mr. Nelson, who has emerged as one of North America's tree house gurus, says he's tried to nail down exactly what draws people to the structures. He says he now knows the secret: it's the tree.

“What really is so magical is the energy that the tree gives everybody,” Mr. Nelson said. “I hate to think that we're tree hunting, but we're really heading out in the forest and looking for some majestic, wise old beings.”

Part of the appeal is also what psychologists refer to as “transitional space,” says George Lockwood, a psychologist from Kalamazoo, Mich. He also designed miniature wooden tree houses for children before U.S. toy manufacturer, Maxim Enterprise Inc., bought his business.

Tree houses give people the best of two worlds, says Mr. Lockwood: the familiar, safe feeling of home along with “the sense of being free and in this other space, where the birds are, and the butterflies.”

It's the loss of that natural wonder that makes Mr. Nelson feel a little squeamish when he receives a new order for an air-conditioned tree house. “They kind of lose a lot of their charm,” he says.

Mr. Sheff's tree house strikes a balance between comfort and connection to its environment. As part of a design competition, Lukasz Kos, then a master's student at the University of Toronto, created the two-tonne, 38-square-metre house by suspending it six metres above the ground with steel airline cables. The cable is anchored in each of four poplar trees, giving the structure the visual effect of hanging weightlessly in midair like a Japanese lantern, says Mr. Sheff, who is trained in architecture.

This summer, Mr. Sheff plans to climb into the poplars, throw his sleeping bag on the floor and sleep there surrounded by his grandchildren.

“It's another take on the world,” he says. “And on living.”