The Muses have again taken flight, leaving me grasping for words and thoughts. It is possible that the thoughts I’ve been having lack a certain spark, enough so I could react and comment on them.
Maybe not…wait for it….I think we’ve got something…
I did allow my brain to take flight and see where it would take me. It took me to a cabin, on a small pond, deep in the western foothills of Maine. It was early autumn with just enough color on the leaves to make it pretty. The mornings were clear and cold with smoke rising off the glassy surface of the pond. In the distance you could hear the call of a loon, the sound echoing off the trees.
I have come here, in my mind, to get away. Recently, I was thumbing through a magazine before going to sleep. I found an article about a man who went back to the cabin his grandfather built up in the Black Hills of South Dakota. The town was abandoned long ago, so this cabin is the only building remaining. There’s no electricity or running water. His only entertainment at night is listening to the call and cries of wildlife.
The cabin in my mind, however, does have electricity and propane gas for the stove, along with a woodstove and a shower. It also has both a kayack and a canoe, two wood Adirondack chairs close to the beach, and a bench on the peninsula just off the screen porch. In the great room, there is a big comfy couch, perfect for stretching out with a good book. Big windows over look the pond. it is serene and calming, a needed remedy for a soul in a busy world. And it’s not a figment of my imagination. I’ve been there.
Late September is the best time to visit this cabin. The days are warm and the nights are chilly, with skies full of stars. You need to bring your own wood to stoke the morning fire. You wake up under a down comforter that keeps the night chill at bay. What this cabin lacks is a clock, and the place is better for not having one. You allow your body to eat when your hungry, sleep when you’re tired – no schedules, no rush to be somewhere. You can just “be”.
How did the memory of this cabin sneak into my brain, gentle reader?
My days in the warehouse filled with time to do nothing. I didn’t say not working. As I wander up and down the aisles in search of supplies for restock, I allow my brain to take off. It used to be I would think of nothing but My Love, but she has faded into the deeper recesses. So I turn to thoughts that can help ease the mundane nature of the work. I’ve thought about London, St. Andrews and Scotland, and I’ve thought about this cabin.
I could go there now. I think I will.