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| Snowy day in our backyard woods. |
Since I can remember, I've dreamed of a cabin in the woods—far, far from everything—as the ideal life for Linda and me.
But as these things often turn out, you may not get exactly what you want in the way you expect.
Although we don't live in an isolated cabin deep in the forest now, we basically live like we do.
I’d bet Henry David Thoreau had more visitors at Walden Pond than we get here—unless you count the rabbits, owls, snakes, hawks, eagles, deer, and our resident crow family that’s adopted us (as long as we keep the peanuts coming).
We rarely have human guests, and we rarely go out. Like many of our neighbors in rural Nova Scotia, we choose to stay on or close to our property most of the time.
We don’t run errands on a whim—especially since we said goodbye to our car. That means we’ve honed our planning and preparation skills to the point where true emergencies are rare, and we only need big grocery orders about six times a year.
Friends kindly pick up those bulk orders and deliver them to our not-quite-cabin in the not-quite-woods. For everything else that we may require from town, I hop on my bike with a backpack to fill with fresh food or other needs.
Our isolated backcountry dream cabin wasn’t meant to be—at least not yet. We still have time and would never rule it out entirely.
But we’ve pulled off our own Walden-ish version: living deliberately in a peaceful place away from the fray, surrounded by nature, just the way we like.
But as these things often turn out, you may not get exactly what you want in the way you expect.
Although we don't live in an isolated cabin deep in the forest now, we basically live like we do.
I’d bet Henry David Thoreau had more visitors at Walden Pond than we get here—unless you count the rabbits, owls, snakes, hawks, eagles, deer, and our resident crow family that’s adopted us (as long as we keep the peanuts coming).
We rarely have human guests, and we rarely go out. Like many of our neighbors in rural Nova Scotia, we choose to stay on or close to our property most of the time.
We don’t run errands on a whim—especially since we said goodbye to our car. That means we’ve honed our planning and preparation skills to the point where true emergencies are rare, and we only need big grocery orders about six times a year.
Friends kindly pick up those bulk orders and deliver them to our not-quite-cabin in the not-quite-woods. For everything else that we may require from town, I hop on my bike with a backpack to fill with fresh food or other needs.
Our isolated backcountry dream cabin wasn’t meant to be—at least not yet. We still have time and would never rule it out entirely.
But we’ve pulled off our own Walden-ish version: living deliberately in a peaceful place away from the fray, surrounded by nature, just the way we like.
How have you carved out your own dream of simplicity and solitude? We’d love to hear what works for you.
