Nestled on a (somewhat) rolling 2.5 acre property near Royersford, Pennsylvania, clapper.org’s home is a study in contrasts. The 140-year-old farm house sits nestled among 50-foot pine trees, 150 feet back from the road, at the end of a winding, tree-lined driveway. At one time, the property also boasted an old, dilapidated stone-and-wood barn, lending it a bit of ersatz New England charm, but the barn was in dangerously poor shape and has been demolished.

The property is a quiet enclave, comprising what’s left of an old farm, in one of the fastest growing townships in Pennsylvania. Within two miles in any direction, developers have turfed up large chunks of arable land to create tract developments with shiny, big, box-like McMansions on treeless lots, as well as more suburban shopping than anyone really needs. Meanwhile, just outside the windows of our house, chipmunks, groundhogs, squirrels, and endless varieties of birds forage for food among the trees and undergrowth. Visitors are treated to bird calls, cricket chirps, and the occasional horn from the freight train that runs along the Schuylkill Canal, less than a mile away.