The Mysterious Suburban Green Rectangle: And What I Found There

After twenty-five years in the cubicle farms, my long-deprived childhood yen for Nature began to burn within me like a breakroom burrito soaked in surplus Starbucks Sriracha and inhaled between conference calls. By quitting time each day, the previous ten hours of conferencing, collaborating and consulting in cubicles filled with knick-knacks and Philodendrons left me jonesing for time with nonhuman critters and plants without pots. Searching for sylvan salvation in suburbia, I realized I never really stopped wanting to be the kid in that famous book who ran off to the woods and lived in a big, hollow stump.