GOING OFF GRID
“We loved that raw feeling you get when seeing a hermit’s shack on a mountain, or tucked in a pine forest somewhere.”
It’s a little after 7am when a gentle, misty light breaks through the trees and causes my eyes to flitter open. I’m bundled in linen sheets like a tightly wrapped burrito, my head on a feather-soft pillow and my feet toasty from the memory of last night’s hot-water bottle. The bed is framed by two vast windows; an invisible wall so subtle you feel you could reach out and
