(Host) When educator, writer and commentator Mary McCallum built her
house in the woods, she reveled in the privacy and the front row seat to
nature that it provided. Now, twenty years later, she finds herself
drawn to closer neighborly connection.
(McCallum) Recently, I
walked from my house in the woods to my neighbor’s, a five-minute
journey down a steep dirt road. It was a warm autumn day that glittered
with late afternoon sunlight and warm breezes that ruffled
brilliantly-colored leaves. I was going to get a massage at my friend’s
home office , and during my walk was struck by the notion of how
proximity can enrich our lives.
Ask a Vermonter about the
importance of their car and they will assert its absolute necessity.
With the average drive from back roads to cultural events, shopping,
doctors, employment and children’s activities taking a half hour, we are
all, quite literally, on overdrive. This requirement to get behind the
wheel in order to connect with the world has me thinking about the joys
of having within walking distance that for which we yearn for most:
community.
I do have good neighbors. The closest one sometimes
provides me with eggs. In winter, when she sees me heading down the hill
on a dog walk, she might call out that my next dozen will be perched on
the snowbank for me to grab on my way back. I like that kind of grocery
shopping but it’s the exception, not the rule. In fact, while I have a
cluster of wonderful neighbors just a short walk away, it’s not
customary for us to share space, work or even meals.
With my
contemporaries, I learned in my twenties how to live communally. The
logic of having only one driveway to plow instead of three or four made
sense, as did the idea of owning fewer lawnmowers. And having only one
lawn to mow. So we pooled our efforts to garden communally and pitch in
on cooking and maintenance.
I’m not suggesting a return to that
lifestyle. The idea of having one’s own space has taken deep root in us
all, yet I hear friends talk about the desire to live more closely, to
drive less and to share in the good times and the bad from just few
footsteps away. Low impact cluster housing is on the rise, as are pocket
neighborhoods in large cities designed to feel like small villages.
They sport flower gardens, backyards, and even picket fences to visit
over with the neighbor next door.
Early history had humans
forming small settlements in order to defend themselves from enemies.
Their town commons provided livestock grazing and firewood collecting
opportunities for all. Nowadays, folks are building modern settlements
with shared common space, but with the emphasis on sustainability and
community instead of protection.
Some local friends talk about a
settlement of yurts with common space and footpaths winding between
them. I love that idea, and dream of being able to shout out my door,
"Hey, I’ve got some soup, who wants to come over?" followed by calls of
"I’ve got the wine!" and "My pie is hot out of the oven!"
The perfect mix of proximity, separateness and meals without wheels.