Progress?

(More pictures to add later)

Cuckoo calls, the delicious songs of blackbird, robin, thrush and many otherbirds provided a day-long soundtrack punctuated by distant calls of lambs and ewes. At night a running stream (the river Aber Wern) lulled us to sleep even before darkness had fallen in these northern latitudes. On clear nights the Milky Way was spectacular.

Leonard and I were staying on the borders of Pembrokeshire National Forest overlooking the Welsh Preseli hills, wild, mysterious, rolling, boggy moors roamed by sheep and wild Welsh ponies, home to multiple standing stones and circles and source of the famous Stonehenge bluestone.

We had answered an ad in Resurgence magazine and rented a Shepherd's Hut for a week, a small wooden caravan of traditional design but new construction, set on a 100-year-old chassis. The walls had sheep's' wool for insulation, and sheep's wool filled the mattress, cover and pillows on the bed.

For heat we had a highly efficient woodburning stove, though after the first two nights the weather warmed up and the sun came out uncharacteristically, making the stove unnecessary. The only furnishings were a Welsh dresser, two tiny tables, two wooden chairs and a two-burner propane gas stove. The general effect was charming and comfortable.

The ultimate attraction for me had been the words, "No Mod Cons:" no electricity (no low grade hum) and no running water, hence no indoor plumbing. Instead there were battery-powered LED lights that we hardly used, a cooler suspended in the water for fridge, an outdoor tap to access the local spring water, and a "tree bog." It was a delightful and thoroughly relaxing week.

Most days we trekked on foot exploring the surrounding countryside, from Beddarthur – a bed-shaped formation of standing stones, set high in the hills with a wonderful view, that could well have been the the grave of someone very much loved – to Rosebush – an unusual small settlement that grew around a failed attempt to build a rail-accessible tourist attraction complete with gardens and healing waters (the waters were discovered to have no special healing qualities after all).

My favorite day was when we stayed home doing "nothing;" what a luxury! Another was when we visited friends Tony and Faith in their roundhouse, part of a small intentional community, Brithdir Mawr, that thrives entirely off the grid near the small Pembrokeshire fishing town of Newport.

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The entire experience was set in high contrast when we landed the following Saturday in a youth hostel in the middle of Cork, Ireland, on a visit to my brother and his partner.

Once again the room was simply furnished, but the walls were paper-thin. A sweaty, synthetic bed cover, a heat exchanger roaring periodically through the night, and partiers carousing back to their rooms throughout the not-so-early hours all kept me awake in a restless fog. And, as a final "insult", instead of the full-on dawn chorus we had been reveling in all week, all we could hear was a blackbird or two and a few mourning doves.

I could empathize with how it must feel to be a new city-dweller, excited at the prospect of a new life but missing terribly the simple treasures of home. Thus has progress "improved" our lives. We pay for convenience with the loss of natural riches. Our week in Wales was a valuable reminder of exactly how much we have to gain by living more simply.