I’ve been living in a cabin with wild animals for 3 days—and it’s surreal. Deer graze outside my window at dawn. A raccoon raided my snack stash on night two. Last night, an owl hooted like a sentry as I read by lantern light. No Wi-Fi, no neighbors—just rustling leaves and distant coyote howls. At first, I was terrified. Now, I feel strangely at peace. The animals don’t care about my stress or emails. They just are. I’ve learned to listen—to the wind, the crunch of gravel under paws, the quiet rhythm of nature. This isolation isn’t loneliness; it’s belonging. I didn’t come here to escape. I came to remember how to breathe.
