Green, quiet spaces have always called out to me. So very happily home is now a tiny, picturesque mountain village at 9,000 feet above sea level, in the Rocky Mountains.
We have no traffic lights and no traffic jams. My husband and I choose not to have cable television. We work full-time. We hike and walk with our dogs a lot. We read a lot. We watch movies from the library and Netflix (when it works) as unreliable Internet access is our biggest 21st-century aggravation. Our library and our medical center are rather amazing for a town the size of ours.
About 300 hundred of us live here—inside of nature. Once the snowy season is mostly past, the visitors start arriving. In the summer we have about 3,000 visitors. People come when their homes are unbearably hot and humid. Almost consistently, there is a completely different attitude between how much time a person spends up here and their attitude about nature.
My husband and I live in a valley. The river is below us and a mountain right out our window. We have a water well and septic tank. A wood burning fireplace and electric heaters mostly warm up our small cabin. We dress in layers, consciously aware of our carbon footprints and my engineer husband has created a bit of solar heated space for us.
Deer, bunnies, moose, elk, all types of birds and rodents live with us or have visited over the years. Our pristine air and winter quiet are treasures. We cannot possibly consider ourselves separate from nature.
