My Second Anniversary of Tent Living

I moved into my tent in November of 2011, so it's been two year now. Nearly as long as Thoreau lived at Walden Pond. I've planted no beans, as he did, and I don't bathe in a pond, but like him, I've lived the simple life long enough to get a good taste of it.

This second year of tent living was my year of routine. Last November, I was setup much as I am today, which means that I've solved all the problems that needed solving, and I know how to live well through each season.  My one big home improvement project during this past year was to hang a tarp over my picnic table during a particularly long Summer rain storm on an otherwise pleasant day when I wanted to spend some time outdoors. But that's it. So I am cruising along now on a steady course.

This November is different from last since I know exactly what to expect in the coming months. Last November started with a feeling of dread since I had not yet had a good Winter experience. But last Winter was a great success, so now that is my new memory. And I know now that there will be very cold times, as well as warm and cozy times. And long, dark evenings spent reading in solitude next to a fire. And early bedtimes. And cold mornings when the coals did not last through the night. And wind and rain and Winter storms. And clear, crisp, snowy days that will make me squint and smile. And hot coffee with my morning walks through the quiet, snow-covered pine woods. And visits to my swing and picnic table and hammock, covered with snow, surrounded by mud, waiting for Spring's warmth to wake them up again. And stacks of kindling and firewood that I will have to keep dry and well-supplied and tended to, that being my primary concern this time of year.

I can already say with confidence that I will live yet another year this way, should all things go according to plan. I've yet to seriously consider returning to the normal way of life, this one being so much simpler and therefore preferable to me. This time of year, I often sit by the fire, gazing into it for awhile, then look around my home, realising, as I often do, that I want for nothing more. And that makes me smile, knowing that I am living well and right, for me.