I’m a big fan of the treehouse. Not just because of the secrecy of being above everyone else, or the hilarity of people who never look up. Or for tree-climbing-as-sport. Or for the views, or the way sunlight streams green through the leaves to wash your face. Or from the accomplishment of building something yourself, with your own two hands. It is all of these things, but also more nebulous (and idealized) getting in touch with my big backyard.
While it’s true that I may occasionally push through tangles of things, leave sticks in my hair, have grit under my nails, or eat bugs, I’m not a complete nature enthusiast. I like camping, just not for weeks at a time. I like coming home to a shower at the end of a grungy day or weekend. As such, the treehouse is my ideal home away from home. Cozy, quiet, and a bit removed, but still within shouting distance of all the conveniences of home. So the thought of an actual tree home is appealing – it seems quieter somehow, more relaxed and at peace with itself. Most likely, that’s all idealizations, but the Swiss Family Robinson has always been a little romantic to my way of thinking. I almost want to be stranded on a desert island.
Thanks to aeroponics, I may not have to give up civilization for my ‘real’ treehouse. Instead, we’re learning to grow houses made of tree from the roots up. I’m all about the benefits of natural heating a cooling, and the pictures do look pretty good. However, despite the fact that I’ve also been intrigued by geodesic dome houses, why are our treehouses roundish little bubbles? If we’re training the tree how to grow, we can make it however we want, rather than like an airport terminal with leaves. I like square shapes – they tend to fit the things I have.
But who knows? Maybe by the time these houses are actually affordable (it will take 10 years for even a prototype to be ready, as we are growing these things from scratch), all the appliances, furniture, and random ‘stuff’ we tend to acquire will be fitted to this sort of curve.