We live on a 10-acre plot of land, about 35 minutes outside of Boston. Most of our property is wooded and our house sits on a little perch, right in the center of the lot. We're surrounded by town & conservation land and we can't see our neighbors in the summer, but in the winter evenings we know they're there because of the lights dotted throughout the woods.
It's hard to believe that we own each of these trees; I like to think that they're ents watching over us, guarding our home as we sleep. Our dog, Luna, has a field day, running through the woods and chasing the critters until she's passed out by the fire at night.
We've been living here for over a year now, so we've experienced the pleasures of each season. In the spring, we relish in the beauty of our newly budding trees and take daily walks to look for the first signs of new life sprouting up from the ground. In the summer, we navigate through the woods and pick blackberries for our morning shakes. I've started a garden, so we'll go out to get chives for our scrambled eggs, fresh tomatoes for our caprese. In the fall, we decorate with pumpkins, we admire the beautiful colors of the changing leaves, trying not to blink so we don’t miss any part of the transformation. We breathe in the scents of autumn, watch as the little chipmunks gather their nuts in preparation of the cold to come. Each of the seasons seem to peak up here on our little home on the hill, but it is winter that really makes me feel like we're worlds away from civilization. When it's a cold, white world outside and we're sitting inside by the fire, wrapped in the warmth and love of our home, I feel like we're in our own little snow globe, just Matty, Luna and me.
It's so cozy, this home we've made for ourselves. Matt says that we're going to live here until we're 'carried out' and I have to say that I am in 100% agreement. It really is our little piece of the world.