A Rural Renaissance

Enlarge Image Image Gallery A rainbow stretches across the sky over the couple's barn, just above an even more inspiring sight - their wind turbine and solar collectors generating clean, renewable energy. John Ivanko

Seven years ago, in search of a more satisfying, sustainable lifestyle, we left the hectic pace of downtown Chicago to move to a small farm in Browntown, Wis., in the southwestern part of the state. We left behind prestigious advertising agency jobs for an 80-year-old farmhouse that we operate as Inn Serendipity Bed and Breakfast, and that serves as our base for such income-producing projects as writing and photography, and a variety of environmental-conservation efforts.

One balmy evening last July, while sitting on our front porch sharing a simple supper of tender lettuce greens and ruby red tomatoes partnered with a warm and crusty loaf of homemade bread, we watched the summer sunset fade to a warm glow and the fireflies begin their evening dance. And we realized we were no longer just owners of a farm; we were active participants in a rural way of life.

We moved to this farmstead with the idea of living our lives according to Mahatma Gandhi's philosophy that "We must become the change we seek." Our quest for the ideal life aims for an existence simpler in design yet richer in meaning than we had in the city. It means a sustainable lifestyle, where we are unearthing passion with every potato we dig.

Making the Move

As suburban kids, and later as young urban professionals, we felt an illusory sense of prosperity and success. The ad agency we both worked for offered exactly the kind of atmosphere in which our college educations prepared us to thrive. And for a while, we both did.

But nightclubs and espresso bars satisfied for only so long. Why were we thinking more about the next weekend getaway to Wisconsin or the next vacation to the Smoky Mountains than of moving up to a corner office? After three years on the job, we realized something was amiss; all we had to show for our efforts was a bank account and a collection of restaurant matchboxes. So, we wandered into southwestern Wisconsin in search of another place to plant our roots, and we found our farm. With a computer and an Internet connection, we established our bed and breakfast; with Rodale's All-New Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening, we figured out which direction the eyes of the potato should be facing when planted. And we dug into our new rural life.

Another sort of Workplace

Chickens, cats and our 2 1/2-year-old son, Liam, roam freely across the land. Occasionally at night, a great horned owl hunts from atop the crest of the barn roof. Our urban commute to the ad agency has been replaced with a 20-second stroll into our home office, where we are as likely to talk about bluebirds, "visit" with ladybugs or slip outside to pick flowers for the guest rooms as we are to crank out copy on the computer.

Our farmhouse itself is a blend of traditional and modern Earth-friendly technology. We cook up hearty breakfasts of farm-fresh eggs and vegetables in the kitchen, while B&B guests take a morning shower upstairs with water heated by solar panels on the roof.