Source www.istockphoto.com

I spent the first 24 years of my life living deep in the heart of southwest Montana.  Not only that, I spent 18 of those years in the exact same farmhouse, on the same gorgeous, breath-taking ranch that I will always, always call home.  I would not and could not imagine trading those 18 years for anything.  In fact, if I could, I would make it so that every child and teen in America had the opportunity to spend some time on a ranch, living off of the land.

Six months ago, I was transplanted to Orange County, CA, where I live just 15 minutes from the beach and 45 minutes from Los Angeles.  I have felt out of place more times than I can count, and shed tears over home more than I wish, but I’ve come a long way in adapting, and a huge part of that has come from how I’ve managed to bring bits and pieces of ranch life to my new found city life.

When it comes to eating, farm-to-table has taken on an entirely new meaning. There was a time when I could walk 20 feet and pick fresh and oh-so-tender veggies from my mother’s garden.  Breakfasts were once scrambled eggs gathered from the morning walk to the chicken coop.  Dinners were centered around home grown beef – beef fed with the alfalfa that my father had lovingly grown.  Clearly, none of that is the same now.  The closest source of food is now a gigantic supermarket.  I haven’t seen a chicken or a cow since I moved, and a farmer in suspenders is a distant memory, but I am learning a thing or two.

I’m realizing that I had it pretty dang good.  I also realize that the majority of the population cannot fathom the kind of life I experienced: what it means to live off the land, or what it is to truly eat, live, and breathe sustainably.  And with that, I’m learning I need to cut some slack to my city friends.  If urban was all I knew, I’d have a pretty hard time imagining my impact on the “land” or “earth” too.

Source www.istockphoto.com

So, what does this mean, ranch to city?  It means little things. It means that I no longer let a Saturday pass without venturing out to the local farmers’ market and stocking up on my produce — which, I have to say, is spectacular. Just because I live in a city doesn’t mean I have to miss out on local.  It means I stop and talk to the farmers in their booths and find a connection.  I do still take an interest in where my food is coming from, in who raised it and who grew it.  It means I seek out “pick-your-own” farms.  It means that the things I ate when in Montana are not necessarily the same things that I eat here because I eat what’s available locally, as different as it now is.  It all means being adventurous, trying produce and seafood I’ve never heard of. It means I value more what I once took for granted — especially when it comes to the price tag.

My recipes have transformed.  I eat less hot foods and a lot more cold foods.  I’m less structured and improvise more.  My range of salads has increased ten-fold — something I really like.  Who knew that I could walk through the park just down the street and pick up a lemon or two for a fresh glass of lemon water when I get back?  Who knew that I would adore figs?

It also means when I do go home, I gather whatever I can to make my old life an ever present part of my new life, even if it’s as simple as bringing back stockpiles of my mom’s homemade soap.  When nostalgia hits me and I feel like fleeing suburbia, I have my dad send me a picture of the cows eating bales of snow dusted hay.  I am learning how to ground myself in a new place: I soak in the sun more; I relish the feeling of awe only the ocean can give me; and I devote the time necessary to re-establish the intimacy with the land I always had as a child.  It may be more time consuming here, but it’s no less possible.

I’ve taken the ranch with me.  I might not be “Orange County” or fit in with the beach girls clutching their Prada and Gucci bags, and I will probably never claim to be Californian (my dad would kill me if I even tried), but I am a ranch girl surviving and thriving in a city.  And the best part?  I haven’t had to change who I am, how I eat, or how I live in any drastic manner.  The air I breathe might be a tiny bit less healthy, and I might miss my mom’s ranch cooking a whole lot, but I do know this now: living in the city does not mean you have to give up a simple life.  And, in my opinion, the simple life will always be the best life.

Author Tara Alley is a freelance writer who avidly writes and blogs about living a simpler, more sustainable lifestyle.  She currently works alongside Coffee Home Direct, researching organic fair-trade green coffee.  For more of her thoughts and writings, follow her on Twitter @hopesiempre.