I have always marveled the way our friends choose to live – for the past thirty years or so, off the grid. I would not choose to live that way but I admire it, not just the small footprint but its purity, a minimalism that opens your senses to overwhelming beauty.
Maybe it was a just a confluence of annoying appointments this summer, doctors etc. – it seems anything would be an intrusion in this idyllic setting – but not all years in the woods are the same. Maybe it is Father Time rattling his scythe. We are close in age and that is top of mind. Maybe it the outside stepping on their toes. Tech advances do not lift all boats.
For now, the local libraries are still stocked with the classics of literature. Infinite Jest is still on their shelf at home and mushroom reference books are at the ready. There is plenty of wood for winter.
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