Previous: The 'Simple Life' on Canada's Lasqueti Island

"What's the use of a house if you haven't got a tolerable planet to put it on?"
-- Henry David Thoreau

Contrary to popular belief, Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage founder Tony Sirna argued that off-grid living isn't about depriving oneself of a comfortable modern lifestyle. (Rosen mentions in his book, "Off the Grid," that modern-day off-gridders, unlike their earlier counterparts, enjoy the same level of physical comfort as "traditional" home-dwellers). According to Sirna, the Ecovillagers of Dancing Rabbit are able to enjoy a highly satisfying yet ecologically responsible lifestyle without excess. This is achieved, he said, by utilizing the abundance of natural renewable resources directly surrounding them (sun, wind and water), and learning to develop resource awareness and respect -- something that today's mainstream "culture of consumption" severely lacks.

Better Than 'Better'? The Micro Grid Alternative

Despite the ecological, economical and psychological benefits offered by the off-grid household, as gleaned from AOL Real Estate's study of global off-grid communities, some argue that off-grid living could still be a very long way from hitting the mainstream. Architect and Green Building Alliance member Dennis Thompson believes that living off the grid is a foreign concept still unimaginable to many, for a number of reasons. One, is the stigma.

New Mexico Earthship resident and education director Kristen Jacobsen admits, for example, that there is a still-pervasive stigma associated with off-grid communities ("There is a myth that [off-gridders] are all hippies, cult members and survivalists," Jacobsen tells AOL Real Estate, though our findings indicate that is not the case.) Despite its growing prevalence and even celebrity endorsements, off-grid living is still seen by many as a pioneering lifestyle associated with "hippies and environmental mavericks." Rosen himself adds that many are still married to the longstanding ideal that houses should look and be "a certain way."

But even those who are unaffected by the stigma are still met with a slew of practical challenges once the choice has been made. For starters, many traditional homeowners wanting to make the ultimate sustainable leap would still desire geographical proximity to major cities for career reasons. ("We don't expect everyone to move to the middle of nowhere and build a straw-bale house," Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage resident Alline Anderson told AOL Real Estate. "That's quite impractical.") But according to Thompson: To live sustainably on the edge of society, only to drive long distances to work each day, is still unsustainable and defeats the purpose of the off-grid lifestyle.

Then, there are financing difficulties. According to the Organization of American States' Department of Sustainable Development, most Americans require around 10,000 kilowatt-hours of electricity every year. Most off-gridders achieve this via a complex combination of solar and wind power sources. But these systems don't come cheap: An aspiring off-grid homeowner may need to initially invest tens of thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in solar panels, wind turbines and DC batteries -- not to mention rainwater cisterns, filters, septic tanks and "grey water" systems. Securing financing for off-grid homes is also no easy feat. Though there are lending companies that specialize in financing off-grid homes, the majority of banks will not mortgage an unconventional, off-grid property due to concerns regarding resale and comparables.

The hurdles don't end once financing has been secured, either: Off-gridders admit that the initial adaptation to an off-grid lifestyle can be problematic. Almost all the residents interviewed by AOL Real Estate admitted that acclimatizing to the lifestyle was a steep learning curve, and that a new set of survival-based skills had to be developed. Erica Hogan, for example, made the move from Crested Butte, Colo., to build her treehouse community in the remote rainforests of Costa Rica. During the construction of her first self-sufficient treehouse, she and her husband, Mateo, were forced to live in a tent in the mud. The initial process of going off-grid, she said, was "chaotic, difficult and stressful."

"Had we known what we were getting ourselves into, we likely wouldn't have started the journey," Hogan told AOL Real Estate. "Now, of course, we're glad we did it. But it hasn't been easy."

Perhaps a more feasible, and what some green experts would call "mainstream friendly" alternative to singular, household-size off-grid energy systems is the micro grid. According to Sheri Koones, author of "Prefabulous + Almost Off the Grid," the most optimal solution for wide-scale sustainable modern housing is not the independent, self-sufficient household untethered from any type of grid, but the renewable-energy municipal-grid system. These small-scale systems would generate, distribute and regulate power flow and, most importantly, would allow homeowners to send back excess energy produced by their homes. (Meaning homeowners are just as likely to be uploading power to the grid as downloading from it.) Numerous studies have revealed that the micro grid could better (and more swiftly) deliver a "100% green-energy future" for housing.

"Micro grids allow us to work with the laws of nature to conserve energy and to eliminate transmission losses," Galbreath adds. "Micro grids frankly get power closest to the user, and give the nation's energy supply less vulnerability."

Galbreath cites the successful case of Kristianstad, Sweden, a municipality that boasts a micro grid based upon three renewable sources. The first is a central wood boiler heating plant that utilizes energy from local wood chips and materials. The second is methane from agricultural and slaughterhouse waste, in addition to household food waste (this powers all buses, delivery trucks, taxis, city vehicles and some central heating). The third source is wind power. Similarly, the German municipalities of Freiburg and Schonau have implemented the micro grid system, reliant on energy generated from solar panels and wind turbines.

The micro grid system has proven so successful that even communities consisting entirely of off-grid households have tapped into the idea. Just last year, the residents of Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage were offered the option of connecting to a newly-built micro grid system. Though the majority of residents still remain entirely off-grid and generate their own power, they have the opportunity to connect to a net-zero energy grid that also allows them to be net exporters of renewable energy. (The residents that have opted to connect to the micro grid currently send back three times the electricity consumed). According to Sirna, this proves that neighborhoods, towns, regions and even whole cities can power themselves fully with renewable energy via micro grids.

'It's "a Future," Rather Than "the Future" '

Individual off-grid households and communities built around the micro-grid system are proven to be efficient, low-impact "futures" of housing. But what about the fate of the city? Although cities generally suffer a poor reputation when it comes to sustainability and have been the impetus for many off-gridders in choosing their current lifestyle, ironically, high-density cities could be another saving grace for modern housing. ("The age of suburbanization is over, and the coming decades will be a time of re-urbanization," reports from the Urban Land Institute reveal). Therefore, the retrofitting of existing major cities for a low-carbon future through championing renewable energy sources in residential and commercial buildings, ecologically-responsible urban planning (less roads, more walking and cycle routes) and intensive urban agriculture could be another viable option for a sustainable future.

In fact, according to Galbreath, every major intensive study on the future of housing has concluded that high-density megacities offer the biggest bang for the buck in terms of energy efficiency: they boast a lower energy-use-per-dwelling average than detached housing in suburban areas. His thoughts are echoed by Thompson, who confirms that the future of sustainable modern housing is in population-dense and increasingly eco-conscious cities such as New York, where denizens do not require motor vehicles to commute to and from work, and future residential developments are slowly but steadily going net-zero.

So where exactly does this leave off-grid living? Our reporting has revealed that the individuals across the globe that have chosen to live off the grid (who, contrary to popular belief, are spread across a range of educational, ethnic, occupational and even socio-economic backgrounds) have consensually reported "fulfilling" and "meaningful" self-sufficient lifestyles in line with their value systems. Though off-gridders face challenges particularly concentrated around initial financing, construction and lifestyle transition, the personal and environmental payoff is colossal: A negligible carbon footprint for many homeowners, complete independence from the whims and failures of utility companies, and no utility bills.

Rosen, Galbreath and Sirna agree that off-grid living remains a viable green model for the future of modern housing. But that doesn't mean it's the only model -- nor is it necessarily the best.

Cities will always play a huge part in the creation of a truly sustainable future. Similarly, localized renewable energy grids allow for a more efficient circulation of power. Our reporting has found that the success of modern housing is dependent on principles such as simplification, the effective utilization of natural resources to reduce ecological impact, and the convergence of home design with function (the homes of the Greater World Earthship Community of Taos, N.M., are exemplary prototypes). But living off-grid is not the only way to achieve these principles. Ultimately, while off-grid living has proven successful for the majority of its proselytes, our series shows that though it may not necessarily emerge as the wider housing model for the future, its principles will certainly shape and inform it.

"I believe that off-grid living is 'a future,' rather than 'the future,' " admitted Greater World resident and Realtor John Kejr. "It's a lifestyle choice."

See also:
Green Real Estate: Homes Made Mostly From Recycled Materials
'World's Tallest Treehouse' Grew From a Divine Vision

More on AOL Real Estate:
Find out how to calculate mortgage payments.
Find homes for sale in your area.
Find foreclosures in your area.
Find homes for rent in your area.

Follow us on Twitter at @AOLRealEstate or connect with AOL Real Estate on Facebook.

Previous: Missouri's 'Dancing Rabbit' Ecovillage

Canada's Lasqueti Island is a remote mass of land east of Vancouver Island in British Columbia, blanketed in towering, moss-colored firs and lush plant species. Surrounded by the inky waters of the Georgia Strait and bordered by 12 miles of scenic, rocky coastline, it's appears to be a Shangri-La of sorts. But before you pack up and haul out of the suburbs to start afresh in the idyls of the Lasquetian isle, be warned: You might not have electricity.

We're not just talking off-the-grid here. Though -- like the Earthship dwellers of New Mexico and the eco-villagers of Missouri -- many Lasquetians generate their own renewable energy via solar panels, wind turbines and watermills with inverters, many also choose to live completely without electricity. Yes, that's right: no electricity, period.

Sound primitive and distressingly backward? It's anything but, if you ask the 426 residents of Lasqueti Island (who, according to Census Canada data, are the most highly educated community in all of British Columbia). In fact, many Lasquetians believe that complete liberation from the trapping dependency on non-renewable energy sources gives humans the power to live "the way they were meant to" -- self-sufficiently, and independent from the whims of money-hungry utility companies.

"Historically, Lasquetians have rejected a centralized system of energy generation in favor of taking individual control of the means of production," explains Paul St. Pierre, a 59-year-old English professor and installation artist who has been living on Lasqueti for over two years. "They learned from the native people, who lived in harmony with their ecosystem."

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Unlike the treehouse residents of Costa Rica, who were forced to resort to renewable energy options due to their elevated rainforest location, Lasquetians made the deliberate choice to remain off-grid despite readily available utilities (earlier Lasquetians resorted only to candles and kerosene to generate light and heat). According to St. Pierre, throughout the years the Lasquetians have continually shot down attempts by utility giant B.C. Hydro and Power Authority to connect them to the mainstream grid. This includes rejecting a proposal for an underwater pipeline to pass overland on Lasqueti from mainland British Columbia, and another for a large centralized gas generator to provide power to the island.

As a result of this conscious decision to shun access to mainstream utilities, St. Pierre says Lasquetians possess a heightened sense of resource awareness, and in extension, a much deeper sense of self awareness. ("[We] are people just like our ancestors," St. Pierre muses.) And it's a way of living, many Lasquetians believe, that our overstimulated and material-driven society might eventually revert back to: a more meaningful lifestyle that's grounded in sustainability, simplicity and community.


A Change of Pace

That certainly was the case for St. Pierre, whose life at Lasqueti began as an experiment of sorts. For eighteen years, the professor was the typical homeowner -- he owned a traditional brick-and-mortar townhouse, lived in a strata complex in Vancouver, and paid regular maintenance fees -- until he decided, in July of 2010, that he no longer wanted any of it. ("I decided this way no way for me to live," St. Pierre revealed). He immediately sold his house, armed with the intention of committing to a more purposeful, environmentally responsible and self-sufficient lifestyle. And mainly, he wanted to prove a point to himself.

"I wanted to test the thesis that a digitally literate and highly media-tized human being could live in an ecologically responsible manner and meet basic survival needs like shelter, food, clothing and energy," St. Pierre told AOL Real Estate.

"I wanted to see if I would be able to repair my shelter, grow food, mend and make my clothing, and generate energy," he said. "If I could do these things on my own, instead of relying on the state to provide them, I might be a human being and my life have meaning."

Twenty-seven months later, St. Pierre's self-assigned "thesis" is going quite swimmingly, though not without its challenges. Like many of the residents on Lasqueti, St. Pierre's everyday life is refreshingly self-reliant. Power for heating and cooking is generated mostly from renewable fuel in the form of wood. Drinking water is collected via rainwater harvesting canisters with filtration systems. Human waste is collected and treated through homemade composting toilets made from steel drums and wooden boxes (a more comprehensive explanation of this process can be found on the Lasqueti Island website's aptly-named "How to Shyte on Lasqueti" section). Organic vegetables and fruit are grown and harvested across the island, and fresh seafood like mussels, clams, prawns and crabs are caught regularly for consumption. (Some residents also keep chickens for egg production. There are no grocery stores on the island). Additionally, many homes are built using re-purposed structures, or designed and constructed sustainably using local and recycled materials, by Lasquetian builders and architects.

One of these builders is Toronto native Mark Young, who was initially drawn to Lasqueti Island in 2003 due to his "repulsion" of the expanding, unsustainable city that was Toronto. He was particularly disturbed by what he viewed as its wasteful urban infrastructure and improvident building and housing design.

"I was dismayed as a child by the inefficiency of housing, in how much energy they required to heat and maintain and eventually demolish," said Young, who was raised in the outer city limit of Toronto. "From the rooftop I saw the shingled peaks as a waste of space and inefficiency."

Such observations propelled Young to explore the design and construction of more sustainable structures for living, which made Lasqueti -- a community with no building inspectors -- the perfect ground for experimentation. (So far, the six buildings that Young has built on the island have been "experiments" in sod-roof structures and rooftop garden designs. The buildings are comprised of mostly wood, clay, sand, straw and horse manure, and there is no insulation, drywall, paint or caulking). Young's most current project will experiment with utilizing the plastic from the island's recycling center (compressed into 500 pound blocks, to otherwise be shipped off the island to a larger recycling facility) as building insulation.

St. Pierre and Young are certainly not the only ones who have made the transition from being grid-reliant to living more sustainable and self-sufficient lives. (In fact, on Lasqueti you'll find an incredible diversity of occupants -- artists, musicians, physicians, designers and more). According to Nick Rosen, author of "Off the Grid: Inside the Movement for More Space, Less Government, and True Independence in Modern America," though off-the-grid living is not yet mainstream, there is a huge "pent-up demand" to live that way -- with an increasing number of individuals choosing to inhabit boats, cabins and yurts instead of standardized, 21st century housing.

Rosen's findings are supported by green housing expert Sheri Koones, author of "Prefabulous + Sustainable: Building and Customizing an Affordable, Energy-Efficient Home." Koones says that a move toward a more ecologically and economically effective lifestyle is not uncommon and that more and more people are shunning the dream of the 10,000-square-foot McMansion (what is now being dubbed the "Voluntary Simplicity Movement").

"Living more economically is becoming more sensible and in some ways more fashionable," Koones told AOL Real Estate. "I don't believe there is any stigma today attached to being environmentally practical."

'Simpler' Doesn't Mean Less Complicated

A life that is simple and "environmentally practical," however, does not mean a life that is necessarily less complicated. One of the overarching lessons learned and shared by the residents of off-grid communities across the world is that living a simple, off-grid life isolated from the culture of materialism and overconsumption does not mean a "simplistic" life.

Ironically, St. Pierre says, it takes a whole new set of skills to live simply. Without the excessive resources that come part-and-parcel with conventional "modern living" at his disposal, St. Pierre was forced to learn how to make his own food, construct his own wooden gates and fenceposts, connect light fixtures and use battery hydrometers. Similarly, Young grows the majority of his own food and has learned the practice of car-pooling and even hitch-hiking (a generally uncommon practice in large cities or even suburbs) across the island to attend events. Young also adds that the sheer isolation of Lasqueti Island adds to the general complications of day-to-day life.

"You're not just off-grid from electricity, but from everything. We have an irregular ferry service that is interrupted by storms and has very expensive freight fees," adds Young, who stockpiles on coffee, chocolate and bananas during shopping trips. "That makes it necessary to grow your own food, provide your own power, heat, building materials and shelter."

Because of such challenges, the Lasquetians, like the eco-villagers of Missouri and Earthship dwellers of New Mexico, concede that their lifestyle is not for everyone. Despite its environmental, economical and personal benefits, it's a largely isolated way of living -- it takes three days of "household work" just to survive -- that should not be romanticized, and whose complex challenges must be properly understood. ("Is living off the grid the future? I only know it is my future," said St. Pierre). That said, many Lasquetians wouldn't have it any other way.

"Off-grid living presents challenges, but my power never goes down in a storm like I hear on the radio of my surrounding communities. The power will continue to come from the sun, and we will continue to harness it," Young told AOL Real Estate. "I do not feel vulnerable. I feel self-sufficient."

Young adds: "When visiting this island, it may appear that you have walked back in time by 40 years. But it may also appear that you are looking at the future."

See also:
Green Real Estate: Homes Made Mostly From Recycled Materials
'World's Tallest Treehouse' Grew From a Divine Vision

More on AOL Real Estate:
Find out how to calculate mortgage payments.
Find homes for sale in your area.
Find foreclosures in your area.
Find homes for rent in your area.

Follow us on Twitter at @AOLRealEstate or connect with AOL Real Estate on Facebook.

Previous: New Mexico's Earthship Community
Next: 'The Simple Life' on Canada's Lasqueti Island

The verdant, rolling hills of Northeast Missouri look as if they were lifted straight from a George Inness painting. A blend of scattered, open-grown trees and lush prairie grassland -- an idyllic savanna ecosystem -- peppered prettily with ponds, small creeks and wildlife. Country life at its finest.

But instead of finding quaint Grant Wood farmhouses and charming country cottages nestled into the picturesque landscape, you'll find a small village made up of unusual-looking earthen structures. No-frills homes constructed entirely from recycled materials, reclaimed lumber, straw and cob; homes outfitted with solar panels or small wind turbines. Though they don't appear as otherworldly as the Earthships of Taos, N.M., or as jaw-dropping as the treehouses of Southern Costa Rica, these homes are radically green: similarly untethered from mass public utilities and reliant on renewable energy sources, with built-in catchment systems and food grown on-site.

Welcome to the Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage, a community that has taken the principle of ecological sustainability to the next level. Like the treehouses of Finca Bellavista and the Greater World Earthship subdivision, green principles were used in the construction of each home and later, the wider functioning of the entire community. But, in their quest to be "stewards" of the land and not merely occupants, the residents of Dancing Rabbit also aimed to restore the land to its pre-colonial ecology. Since the Ecovillage's establishment, its residents have planted over 10,000 trees onsite, ensuring a sustainable source of wood for future generations of the community. ("What's the use of a fine house," Thoreau once mused, "if you haven't got a tolerable planet to put it on?") Story continues after the gallery below.

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Tony Sirna, one of the ecovillage's founders, sees Dancing Rabbit as far more than just a village -- but as a model for social change and an inspiration for humans to live more harmoniously alongside nature.

"We wanted to demonstrate a positive alternative to our modern American culture's relationship to the environment," Sirna told AOL Real Estate. "We wanted to do more than take small steps towards reducing our impact. We wanted to develop a full-fledged human society with sustainability as its core value."


A 'Values-Driven' Lifestyle

The idea for Dancing Rabbit began in 1993 with a group of ecological activists from Stanford University in California. Fueled by the desire to stop ecological destruction and finding wiser alternatives for modern living (the group was inspired by the self-sufficiency found in "earthships"), they came up with the idea of an "eco-town" of 1,000 people. After further research, discussion and careful planning, they refined the idea to an intentional "ecovillage," comprised of both individuals and small sub-communities. (An intentional community is a planned residential community designed to have a high degree of teamwork and a shared value system).

Crunch time came in 1996, when the six founders moved to Missouri due to its affordable land and a lack of restrictive zoning and building codes. The ambitious group purchased 280 acres of land and began building the ecovillage in 1997. Though there were numerous challenges throughout the journey, 15 years later the population of six grew to 75 people, and the village currently houses over 25 sustainable structures.

"We built all of our houses ourselves by hand, with help from people in the community, using natural and recycled materials," says 13-year resident Kurt Kessner, who lives at Dancing Rabbit with his wife, Alline Anderson. (Both are pictured at left).

Kessner and Anderson, like other Dancing Rabbit residents, live in a home that generates its own energy via solar panels and wind turbines, and boasts its own renewable water supply -- thanks to built-in rainwater catchment cisterns. Wastewater is filtered and re-used throughout the home via graywater systems, and all human waste is recycled through composting. Kessner and Anderson enjoy food grown and harvested from small organic gardens and fruit trees that are integrated throughout the ecovillage. (Most recently, Dancing Rabbit has introduced "food forests" -- gardens which grow layers of plants, trees, herbs and vegetables through a system that resembles the growing patterns and plant species of wild woodland habitats.) Additionally, Kessner and Anderson do not own a motor vehicle, and walk to work -- a strawbale bed-and-breakfast that they built themselves -- each day.

According to Kessner, this kind of radically sustainable living has carved a path for a simpler and more meaningful modern lifestyle not driven by hollow materialism, but instead by values and community.

"How many hours of your life does it cost you to drive that car, to have that formal dining room, to own that boat? If you traded that for time -- time with family and friends -- how much more valuable is that?" said Kessner. "It's a simpler, more fulfilling way to live."

Sirna also argues that, contrary to popular belief, simple does not mean "simplistic" or primitive. In fact, Sirna says that the residents of Dancing Rabbit live just as comfortably as "traditional" home-dwellers, only without excess.


"Living in an ecovillage has meant a drastic reduction in my level of consumption without any degradation in my standard of living or happiness," said Sirna. "I've found that I can easily get my needs met with far less money and less impact." Sirna also explained that, while the average home at Dancing Rabbit was far smaller than the average American "brick-and-mortar" home, any additional space would be largely unnecessary.

Kessner's wife echoed Sirna's sentiments and further added that the environmentally responsible way of life practiced at Dancing Rabbit was not just tolerable but very "rich." The home which Alline Anderson shares with Kessner is completely paid for, all utilities included -- "we use rainwater for bathing, cleaning and cooking, and solar and wind for electricity," she explains -- and she is able to spend less time working and more time with family.

"One of our great joys is demonstrating that sustainability does not have to be about deprivation. Living lightly on the earth can be really satisfying!" Anderson told AOL Real Estate.

'It's Not That Difficult'

If you ask Kessner, Anderson and Sirna (or the Hogans of Finca Bellavista, or earthship creator Michael Reynolds), living in a radically sustainable fashion is a no-brainer. The resources on which modern housing and suburban developments depend are fast depleting, and more and more individuals from all walks of life are becoming aware of this reality. (According to Sirna, the educational and class backgrounds, and chosen occupations, of current Dancing Rabbit residents are incredibly diverse). Off-grid communities like this ecovillage offer individuals an opportunity to take responsibility for lessening their own carbon footprint, without sacrificing their quality of life.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't think this was a better way of living. I feel very fulfilled in my day-to-day life. My impact on the planet is greatly reduced, and I have wonderful [personal] connections," Sirna told AOL Real Estate.

Even green experts agree that ecovillages such as Dancing Rabbit are viable options for the future of modern housing and development. According to Sheri Koones, author of "Prefabulous + Sustainable: Building and Customizing an Affordable, Energy-Efficient Home," approximately 40 percent of the energy used in the United States is due to heating and cooling homes and buildings. A rise in eco-villages would help curb this.

"I think an eco-village is an excellent idea," said Koones. She suggests, however, that the "optimal situation" would be for ecovillages to still be attached to the grid so that residents are able to send it excess energy produced by their homes. (Just last year, the residents of the Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage were offered such an option. Though the majority of residents still remain off-grid and generate their own power, the residents that have opted to connect to the wider electrical grid currently send back three times the electricity consumed.)

Though the benefits of living in a largely off-grid Ecovillage are plentiful for both the environment and the individual, even the residents of Dancing Rabbit admit that it's not necessarily the path for everyone. ("We don't expect everyone to move to the middle of nowhere and build a strawbale house," said Anderson.) However, there are lessons that city and suburb-dwellers can learn from the radically sustainable, community-oriented lifestyle at Dancing Rabbit. Its sharing of resources and resource awareness, its recycling and water conservation, and its move away from materialism can be achieved without moving to the rolling hills of Northeast Missouri.

It doesn't stop Kessner from hoping, though.

"I'm a strange combination of pessimism and optimism -- I don't have much hope for humans, but at the same time, I'm here trying to demonstrate that there are better ways of living," Kessner told AOL Real Estate. "But I'd love if this was the future of Western civilization -- sustainable living. It's not that difficult."

See also:
'World's Tallest Treehouse' Grew From a Divine Vision
House of the Day: Rising to the Treetops in Texas

More on AOL Real Estate:
Find out how to calculate mortgage payments.
Find homes for sale in your area.
Find foreclosures in your area.
Find homes for rent in your area.

Follow us on Twitter at @AOLRealEstate or connect with AOL Real Estate on Facebook.

But a little farther west, in a mesa valley tucked into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, sits an unlikely community teeming with activity and purpose. In this colony of peculiar-looking structures dotting the rugged landscape, you'll find a residential hub that's self-sufficient, sustainable and sophisticated. You'll find life in the desert.

It's better known as the Greater World Earthship subdivision, a gathering of radically green homes whose collective carbon footprint is negligible. Each home is constructed using only natural and recycled materials -- consumed products that society discards, such as glass bottles, aluminum cans and tires -- that constitute the thermal mass foundation and walls of each home. The structures are entirely untethered from mass public utilities like power, water and gas lines, and they run entirely on passive solar heating as well as cooling and photovoltaic power. What does one call these unique, 100 percent sustainable structures? "Earthships," of course. (Story continues after the gallery.)

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Sounds crazy? It's not as wild as you think, said Kirsten Jacobsen, a director at Earthship Biotecture, a company that designs and constructs earthships across the globe. She added that Earthship living is fast becoming a rational solution to combat the wastefulness associated with traditional modern housing.

"As the world's problems get worse with climate change, resource depletion, water, power, sewage, and access to good food, there's been an increasing national and global interest and demand for this kind of living," Jacobsen said. "Taos is just the beginning. We've built Earthships across the globe -- in Canada, Honduras, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Haiti, Bolivia, Scotland, England, Belgium, France...."

But don't call it a global "trend." For the architects behind these Earthships and the residents who live in them, it's a veritable blueprint for what the future of housing might -- and should -- be like. In fact, if you ask architect and Earthship creator Michael Reynolds, that was the whole point.

'Built to Sail on the Seas of Tomorrow'

Reynolds graduated from architecture school in 1969, dissatisfied with what he had been taught about designing modern, conventional brick-and-mortar housing. Instead, he began a 30-year study and practice of integrative, resource-efficient home construction: Homes built literally from everyday trash (such as the one pictured at left). Most importantly, he attempted to create a structure that would work seamlessly with natural processes and wouldn't rely on grid-based resources.

"A house is a shelter box that nuclear power plants and sewage systems come in and out of," Reynolds told AOL Real Estate. "[The earthship] is really a machine to take the place of housing and infrastructure for the future, built to sail on the seas of tomorrow."

Unlike regular homes, each Earthship is an "independent vessel," Reynolds said. Each home uses solar or wind energy for power. Rainwater is caught from a roof with a potable surface, channeled through silt catches into cisterns, then gravity-fed into a water-organizing module with a pump and filter. Waste water and sewage is drained and filtered via linear, biologically-developed gray-water treatment and containment systems. Propane tanks, refilled each year, offer gas for stovetop cooking. And fresh produce is grown onsite via indoor food production areas and veggie beds.

According to Jacobsen, it's all about adapting the needs of humans to the already existing "activities of the planet" -- utilizing a logical model that works to make the most of the structure's surrounding environment and natural resources rather than perpetually draining them. Jacobsen said that though idealism gave birth to these Earthships, their pragmatism secured their success; they're proven to ensure survival when the traditional grid-based system, inevitably, falters.

"When the power goes out in town, [Earthship] community members still have warm homes, Internet, working fridges and lights," said Jacobsen. "Plus, Earthship community members don't pay any utility bills."

Another financial plus? The price of Earthships tend to run under the average market price for a traditional brick-and-mortar home of the same size, according to real estate agent John Kejr, who specializes in selling Earthship homes in Taos. You can even snap one up for as little as $100,000, Kejr said. Some bare-bones Earthships featuring small power systems (known as "survival huts") are available for a mere $2,500. (On the other end of the spectrum, the late actor Dennis Weaver once put his Earthship home on the market for $4.25 million.)

"The people who want to buy Earthship homes range from wealthy people to those of very modest wealth," Kejr told AOL Real Estate. "I am just amazed at this continuous growth in interest.

'Just Regular People'

Next: New Mexico's Earthship Community

Imagine a world where you wake up among the treetops, where neighbors glide door-to-door on zipline canopy "trails" and swinging vines, where fruit, vegetables and cacao are harvested on site, where fresh meals are prepared in a communal kitchen. A wholly self-sufficient, sustainable forest utopia. It's la pura vida in the sky.

Next: New Mexico's Earthship Community