There is a joke that I heard once from a fellow web developer. They said: > The pipeline of junior developers who become senior developers who become managers who become park rangers is alive and well I chuckled at this, and I repeat it often. As I've continued on in my career, the joke seems less humorous and more prescient. Becoming a park ranger sounds like a dream right now. A couple years ago, I became obsessed with YouTube videos of people building their own off grid cabins and living in them full time. I watched video after video, asking myself if this was something I could do. Could I give up my video games, and my cellular service, and my high speed internet? The ultimate answer was no, I couldn't give all that up, but damnit if I don't want to sometimes. Once a year, we pack the kids up and drive to the Blue Ridge mountains to meet another family from Florida that we consider some of our closest friends. We go on nature walks, we see waterfalls, we sit on patios, and we take in mountain views. The kids chase each other in the background. It's an idyllic scene, and one that I look forward to each summer. We just got back, and I find myself a little lost right now. Software development is a super power. The ability to take something from nothing and just create whatever you can think up is what makes it such an addicting drug to me. The problem is that the computers we program are also fickle mistresses, and they often require all our knowledge to tame. All day, I stare at the screen and think. Then, I "log off", grab my phone, and stare at that screen to relax. Then, after the kids and my wife go to bed, I log back onto my computer and either code or play video games. My life is a crazy cycle of creation and consumption on the screen. Don't get me wrong, we get outside. I go for runs in the morning. We take the kids to the parks. But it's not the same. You don't get the same peace knowing that you are going to return to the digital world that is not only a passion, but your livelihood. About a year ago, we joined four other couples in the mountains surrounding Asheville on a cabin trip, similar to our yearly Blue Ridge trip. All the husbands (myself included) went on a hike through a section of the Appalachian Trail. We only went a couple miles, but we did run into many other hikers. One of my friends was wearing a Deloitte t-shirt. We were stopped by **three** different hikers who had previously worked in one of the big four consulting firms. They were either on sabbatical, or had quit entirely, to hike the trail. They seemed to be on top of the world, and I understand why. When I retire, I want to build a cabin. I may not live there full time, but I will be there a lot of the time. Maybe when the kids move out, my wife and I will take a dog and just sit on the patio of that cabin. That sounds nice. There is no point I'm trying to make. This is why The Garden exists. This has been on my mind, and I can't shake it. When I'm in front of a computer, I have a million questions. When I'm in front of a mountain view on a deck, I only have one: "How Great is This?"