We live out in a remote part of Northeastern Washington state, on a quiet 20 acres close to absolutely nothing. It’s beautiful, and peaceful.
I work from home and the view from my office window is pine trees, meadow grass, and our massive garden plot.
But still, sometimes I need to push away from the computer, turn off the phone, and get away from everything.
I am so lucky, in those moments, that right across from our property is a path that leads to the perfect escape: behind our neighbor’s property is approximately 150 acres of open land. 90 acres is owned by a local paper company and another 60 is owned by some random couple in California who apparently purchased it sight unseen and then later realized they had no ingress, so it just lays unused. Which is fine by me.
I throw a water bottle and cell phone (though I won’t have reception) in my backpack, and strap on a large bell and a container of bear spray (there have been many bear sightings in our area, and I’m not taking any chances).
It only takes me about 30 minutes to scale up the hill, get to the top of the peak, breathe in the pure, fresh, pine-laced air and get a sweeping view of the valley below (where our house lays).
In those moments – when I’m on top of that hill, with no sound except the wind cutting through the trees, with no company except my dog and the odd jackrabbit who crosses our path, or the hawk that screeches from the sky, with no visual stimulation except the beauty of nature and the occasional pile of elk poop – in those moments, everything seems perfect.
I come back sweaty and recharged. Refreshed and invigorated. Ready to take on whatever life brings me.
I am so grateful to have access to such a wonderful retreat, just steps from my doorway.