Not into the woods, exclusively, but I do daydream about being a hermit someplace, maybe out in the countryside, maybe in a cave, maybe in a tree…maybe in a hidden room in the castle. Maybe as one of those ornamental hermits that the British gentry used to keep on their country estates.
Maybe as a witch in a hut on a cliff above the sea, where young lovers might come to exchange their treasures for potions to gain their desires. Maybe just as an old woman on an ordinary, nondescript street on one U.S. coast or the other who lets people think she’s deaf so she doesn’t have to talk to anybody.
I do like the rustic coziness part. That actually has more appeal than a chilly old cave. Especially if I get a cat in the bargain.
Oh, and a cauldron.