Bug Hotel
Living Off Grid in a Yurt, or to be pedantic a Ger (Google the difference, I can’t be arsed to explain), is a much romanticised life. Supposedly a life of freedom and being close to nature. A life of gay abandon.
Well sorry to burst the old idyl but it’s only really one of those things. We are exceptionally close to nature (how I crave gay abandon!). Not only can we hear ever single animal noise from the comfort of our bed, the beautiful call and response of the tawny owl, the gentle prod awake by a ever building explosion of joy that is the dawn chorus and the raucous unnerving screech of some fornicating foxes but we also share the inside of our abode with a huge diversity of creatures.
If you think of a Ger as a big living and breathing organism supporting a whole heap of life, like a veteran Oak, then you’ll get the idea. It’s not just a lifeline to us big folks (or little people in the case of Kim), we share our space with a whole host of other beings. We have several huge spiders that live behind our insulation and set their intricate traps over virtually everything we own, weaving elegantly while we’re asleep. Numerous species of beetle have to be brushed out of the way on a daily basis and we must be in the woodlouse guidebook for a good place to stay. Not to mention the several queen wasps who we kindly house for their winter slumber.
I get that this all sounds freakish and utterly bizarre to you normal house huggers but I wouldn’t have otherwise any other way. Sharing our shelter with this cornucopia of critters just feels right. It helps stop the human arrogance that we hold dominion and take priority. It helps keep me wedded to the realisation that I too am just a bod clinging to a rock. Nothing more and nothing less.
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