Hiya Rural Sprout Readers,
I can’t believe another week has passed us by.
And what a week it was.
This winter seems to be making up for the last few years of mild winters. Our hearts go out to everyone affected by the storm, and we hope power will be restored quickly, and help will be received where it is needed.
This seems like a good place to continue with getting to know the Rural Sprout Team.
This week I’ll be sharing a bit about myself. My name is Tracey Besemer; I’m the Rural Sprout editor and one of our writers.
Watching the news this week made me think back to my childhood. My dad was an off-the-grid homesteader.
I remember, as a child, playing with my friend next-door on a snowy winter night. The power went out, and it was decided that it would be best if I headed home for the evening.
While they dealt with finding flashlights in the dark house, I bundled up, walked down the snowy backyard, and across the stonewall to our property. I walked that path hundreds of times by the light of the moon.
In the wintery dark, I could see the soft glow of light from our cabin windows.
As I stomped the snow from my boots and came inside, I was greeted by the cheery glow of several oil lamps and the enveloping warmth of the woodstove—just a normal night at home.
My dad looked up from his reading, a pipe in his mouth, as I told him that the power had gone out in our tiny, rural neighborhood.
He looked out the window up toward the road where the tiny church marquee was usually lit up. It was all darkness.
“Hmm,” he said before returning to his reading.
In times like this, when the modern world around us grinds to a halt, I sometimes wonder how many new homesteaders are born.
I wonder if there’s that one family that says, “That’s it, we’ve had it, we’re going off the grid.”
These days I live in a small town in Central Pennsylvania near Penn State University. It’s an unusual area. The university draws many people but drive twenty minutes in any direction, and mountains and forests surround you.
The call of the woods and the solitude of nature are never far from my mind. You can often find me deep in the state game lands foraging (mushrooms are my favorite) or just wandering through the forest, escaping the busy noise of town.
