Tucked in the mountains of the Santa Fe National Forest are the beginnings of a new farm and way of life. Currently, 3 or 4 miles off a maintained dirt road in a small meadow, a canvas tent sits under a velvety black blanket of sparkling stars. The voice of the wind, making its way through the miles of Pinion and Ponderosa pines, is the most prominent sound. There is no running water and heat comes from wood collected on the 40 acres. Here ones basic needs are met in very basic ways. You are tightly bound to all that surrounds you, for the consequences are direct and swift if you choose to be lax. To some this may seem harsh, but to me, it brings to life all that is has been put to sleep in the modern world. I feel we have given up so much more than we have gained in the striving for an "easier"or more "comfortable" life. Winter use to be a time of reflection and rest, but now we work year round with little rest. Contemplation is only something a monk does. But here in the mountains, as you set foot outside the tent, and are greeted with the hush of the snow and the grace of the expansive forest. One can not help but be humbled by the simple, yet profound beauty of nature. Contemplation, reverence and respect come effortlessly.
