10 things to love about living in a tipi

Round spaces feel more accepting, and more open to possibility, than square ones.

It's not possible to lock yourself out of the house.  Or in.

A little curve of sky, rather than a light fixture, occupies the peak of my ceiling.

The bathroom facilities don't use any water or electricity.  And what a view, by moonlight!

Not-quite-waterproof canvas walls and smoke-hole keep me aware of weather's presence -- and of my place in it.

Reading by candlelight or flashlight makes words, and the time spent imbibing them, precious.

With a tent set up inside it, nights are completely cozy and warm, and the space is transformed from a one-room to a one-bedroom house with a living room.

Small ones such as mice and lizards can come in and out, freeing me of any absolute claim to "my" space. And since they seem to prefer the narrow verges around the rugs' edges and between the walls and the inner canvas lining, we find it easy not to bump into each other.

Since the fire-pit inside has been unused for a while, there is a green plant growing out of earth at the center of my living room.

River-voice sings me to sleep at night with its memories of September's big rain.  Now I know what the rhythm of constant flowing abundance sounds like.