Here, nature isn’t something to manage, it’s something to listen to. The earth knows how to heal, how to grow, how to guide us, if we’re willing to pay attention.
This ethos is rooted in the understanding that we are not separate from nature. We are composed of the same elements that formed the stars, the soil, the water, and the trees. When we live with that awareness, our choices begin to shift — toward care, toward humility, and toward balance.
The following principles reflect a way of living in relationship with the land, grounded in observation, reciprocity, and respect.
Nature doesn’t like bare soil. Bare soil gives way to hardy pioneers, then wildflowers, shrubs, and eventually forest. Choosing plants that match where the land is now supports the next step in its return to balance.
Choose methods that restore and go beyond restoration. The goal is to leave the land more abundant, more alive, and more resilient than where it was found.
Resist the culture of urgency. Living simply means embracing the time it takes—whether on the land, in the kitchen, or at everyday tasks. There's beauty in choosing a slower, more traditional way of life, where work is done with intention, patience, and care.
Whether through trade, gift, or a fair price, offerings are shared in ways that honour the effort and the earth behind them. Reciprocity and respect are at the heart of every exchange.
What comes from the site, stays on site whenever possible. Materials are returned to the system in useful ways rather than discarded only to burden another system.
Observe before acting. Consider how each choice impacts the land, and remember that nature’s needs are not separate from our own.
These principles are not rules, but reminders. They are gentle guides for a way of living that honours the land and our place within it. They grow and change with time, just like the seasons. What matters most is the intention: to live thoughtfully, to tread lightly, and to leave the earth better than we found it.