In the Quiet Company of the Trees with @thesmokebird
There are women who move to the edges of the map not to escape the world, but to return to what is real. For Daniella of The Smokebird, living off-grid is not a trend or a retreat — it is a remembering. In the quiet rhythms of land, season, and self, she has found a different measure of time, and a deeper definition of home.
Living off-grid asks for a different relationship with time. What has this way of life taught you about slowness, patience, and listening?
Living off-grid has introduced a beautiful slowness to my life, a pace that feels far more natural than the constant hustle of the world. It’s interesting that after spending long stretches off-grid, when I come into town or visit friends, people often say, “Welcome back to the real world.” To me, it feels quite the opposite. The real world is a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. Off-grid, no one is constantly demanding your time or attention. There’s no forty-hour workweek, and two weeks of vacation. Instead, your energy goes into meeting your most basic needs, chopping wood, unclogging water intakes, fixing things, tending the garden, and growing your own food. Your days are shaped by daylight, weather, and the changing seasons. You learn to work with nature rather than against it. This way of life has taught me patience in a very tangible way. Nothing happens quickly, and nothing can be rushed. You begin to understand that effort doesn’t always bring immediate results.
A quote I often repeat to myself is, “The day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit.” Living off-grid turns that saying into lived experience, and a beautiful metaphor for life itself. It has also taught me how to listen, to my body when it needs rest, to the land when it needs care, and also to the birds and the bustling trees on a windy day. There are seasons of hard work and long days, and there are seasons of slowing down and restoration. Honoring that rhythm has always been what feels most natural to me. And it’s taught me that living simply often brings you closer to what truly matters.
What does a day lived simply look like for you now? Are there small rituals that ground you when the world feels loud or fast?
A day lived simply to me, is understanding that simplicity isn’t about doing less, but about doing what matters with care and intention. I love slow mornings, making coffee and staring out at the mountains while I think about the day ahead. In the spring and summer, I spend most of my time in the garden. The work is hard and physical, but deeply grounding, and it makes the quieter moments of rest feel even more rewarding. Winter brings a different kind of simplicity, quieter and more inward. Days are spent chopping wood and keeping the fire going, shoveling snow, and ending the evening curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good book, things that feel just as essential as the work itself.
As the seasons shift and my days begin to look different, there are always small things that bring me back to myself. Morning coffee. Reading a good book. Daily movement. Sitting by the water. Lying in the grass… or the dirt… or the snow with my dog. These are the moments that steady me when the world feels loud or fast. I’ve realized that it’s in these quiet, simple moments that I’ve experienced my most profound things. No matter how busy life becomes, I make a point to return to them. They remind me what it means to be present, and they keep me grounded in what truly matters.
What has nature taught you about resilience — especially through long winters, solitude, or moments of uncertainty?
Nature has been one of my greatest teachers. It embodies true resilience. I look at the trees, they don’t care what they look like, if they’re old and weathered, they just keep growing, deeply rooting more and more with every storm. The birds don’t care if they have a beautiful song, they just sing anyways. The river carves its way around every rock and obstacle in its way. Sometimes it’s about bending without breaking. Sometimes it’s about resting, waiting, and trusting that movement will come again. In nature, there are no self-limiting beliefs, only cycles of growth, dormancy, and renewal, and that’s something I try to carry into my own life.
You’ve worn Daughters of India through many chapters of your life. How do these pieces live with you in your everyday — in work, rest, and time outdoors?
I’ve worn my Daughter’s of India pieces through so many chapters of my life, and they’ve become part of my everyday rhythm. I try to choose natural fibres as much as possible because they breathe, they last, they feel good on the body, and they’re kinder to the earth we’re a part of. Being out in nature has made me more mindful of what I wear, and these pieces align naturally with that way of life. There’s an ease to them that feels both practical and special. They move and flow with me, whether I’m working, resting, going out or spending time outdoors. I love that you can feel comfortable and beautiful.
Choosing a slower, more remote life often means trusting your intuition deeply. How have you learned to listen to that inner voice?
Choosing to live remotely has given me the time to connect deeply with myself. Being away from constant texts, notifications, and social media has taught me how much clarity comes from slowing down and turning inward. Without those distractions, I’ve learned to notice my own thoughts, feelings, and instincts, and to trust that even when the outcome is uncertain. Living this way has shown me that intuition often speaks softly. It’s in the quiet moments that I hear it most clearly. Over time, I’ve learned to honor that voice, to pause before making decisions, and to trust that what feels right in the moment is usually guidance I can rely on.
Are there women, ancestors, or teachers — human or natural — who have quietly shaped the way you live now?
I always thought my lifestyle was entirely my own choice, something very different from anyone in my family. Living off-grid, growing my own food, and staying connected to the land has always felt like a part of me, like something I was meant to do.
A few years ago, I was visiting my mother and came across an old photo album filled with pictures of my grandparents in Italy. My Nona passed away when I was young, so I never really had the chance to know her well or hear about her life in Italy. As I flipped through the album, I was amazed by what I saw. My Nona was living the exact life I live now, off-grid in a remote mountain village in Sicily, growing all her own food, tending to her gardens and animals, and living a very simple but fulfilling life. Every photo captured her in the garden or beneath a fruit tree. She was always, wearing a beautiful dress. Seeing those images made me feel so connected to her and what she had unknowingly passed on to me. Even though I never thought to ask her about her life as a child, I now understand why this way of living has always called to me. My Nona, in her own quiet way, has been one of my greatest influences, showing me, passed down from generations, the beauty of living simply, and finding fulfillment in the everyday rhythms of life.
What does “home” mean to you at this point in your life — is it a place, a feeling, or a way of being?
Home, to me, is a place of safety and peace, somewhere you can take a deep breath after a long day and simply be. I used to think home was a building, a place with four walls and a roof. But over time, I’ve realized that home is much more than a structure. It can be a feeling, a person, a familiar tree, that rock you’ve always sat on beside the river, or a place that has held you gently through life’s seasons. For me, home is ultimately within myself. Over the years, I moved so many times, feeling uprooted and ungrounded with each change. But through those experiences, I’ve learned to cultivate a sense of home from the inside out… a steadiness and comfort that doesn’t depend on location. It’s a feeling of being rooted, safe, and fully present within myself, wherever life finds me.
What would you like to share with women who are longing for a slower, more grounded way of living but don’t know where to begin?
For women longing for a slower, more grounded way of living, I would say start small, and be gentle with yourself. There’s a natural rhythm to life that many of us are drawn to, nurturing, creating, connecting with nature and the seasons, but the world often tells us we have to live differently. You don’t need to quit your job or move to the middle of nowhere to begin. Begin with small, intentional practices, spend time outside every day, even for a few minutes, make a little garden or grow some herbs on your window sill, unplug from screens and be quiet with your own thoughts. These small things can help you reconnect with yourself and your own natural pace.
Over time, those small daily things add up, and you’ll find yourself living more aligned with the life you’re meant to lead. And if the opportunity ever comes to take a bigger leap, trust your intuition and take it. The slow life isn’t about perfection or immediate transformation, it’s about living your life in a way that fills you up.
In Daniella’s world, slowness is not absence, but presence — a devotion to what nourishes and endures. Her story reminds us that a grounded life begins not with distance, but with intention. And that perhaps the truest home we can build is the one we carry, quietly and courageously, within ourselves.
