A Little Cabin in the Woods

This past weekend I was so fortunate to be able to have a getaway to a little cabin in the woods. I packed my bags, kissed my family goodbye, and headed out on the road. A beautiful drive up the Columbia River stretched before me on a warm fall Friday afternoon.

It has been awhile since I've been able to get out on my own and connect with the natural world. While I usually take my solo weekends at the coast, this time it was a real treat to travel to an area I have not spent too much time in. A place of rolling grassy hills, scrub oak, shadowed mountains and ribbons of rivers running through.

This was my view from the deck where I spent my mornings with coffee and my afternoons reading. It was lovely weather, quiet and peaceful with a fair amount of bird watching and crocheting. No TV, no traffic, no schedule to keep... Ah yes.

Everyday I walked down along the river and breathed deeply of fresh air and blue skies.

I slept in a cozy nest where sunlight streamed through the windows. When I opened my duffle bag upon arrival, I found that Pony Girl has sent along a little friend to keep me company. The Little Red Hen and I had quite a time.

Part of my trip included a nearby class on Natural Dyeing from local plants. It was great. I'll tell you all about that in my next post! 

For now I'll just say how grateful I am to my family for keeping the home fires burning and giving me the chance to have this relaxing and lovely weekend. Many thanks to my friends for letting me stay in their sweet little cabin in the woods, it was so special. I will keep this weekend in my heart and soul for a long time to come.

Thank you cabin 21

Breathe

Last weekend I went off to the coast, my annual solo trip - well almost annual. Last year I missed it somehow, busy lives and all. I loaded up as I always do; guitar, boombox, cds, journals, books, yarn and hook. And as I always do, most of that stuff sat untouched as I spent most of my time on the beach or just sitting in my cottage staring out at the ocean, doing nothing but breathing in and out.


As I sat and stared, I thought a lot about change.

The connection to this landscape is now onto it's 4th generation with my daughter now travelling summers on the two lane highways and dipping her toes in this particular cold water part of the Pacific. Every time I drive around a bend in the road I have this anticipation of what might have changed since the last time; I wonder what remains unchanged.


On Three Rocks Road the cows are there, as they have always been there, or so it seems to me. I roll down my window wave and yell, "Hi Cows!" because I always do. There stands the old barn, leaning just a little more to one side than last time. The fields are still for grazing with a clear line of sight towards the estuary.


As I roll into town I notice a new housing development across the highway from the golf course. There are a couple of new businesses on the main drag, and a couple of old businesses that did not make it through the tough coastal winter. When I check into my cottage I am shaken by change. The 1960's funky faux wood paneling has been painted a sparkling white, the wood burning fireplace has been replaced with a gas one, and the old ugly super comfy Barcoloungers have been retired with more modern and nominally more attractive chairs taking their place.


Ah, but the view! The view is still the same.

This last year has been full of change with even more big changes on the way, perhaps I have got a little dizzy and lost my way in an unrecognizable landscape. Isn't everything changing all of the time? Isn't that how life rolls? Change is good and natural and part of the evolution of our selves. We keep learning, growing, and all that jazz - moving on and up, or sometimes sideways.

Still, I think it is wise to occasionally stop and take stock, to get one's bearings...


...and to preserve some things; hold on to parts of ourselves and our lives that have depth, quality and meaning.

I didn't come to any great conclusions, nor did I have any epiphanies regarding life and change. Like I said, I just thought a lot about it. I know there are things that need to change, some work that needs doing. I also found a determination to reconnect with some old joy, to rekindle some neglected passions, and to set out some sign posts for myself in the midst of an ever changing landscape.


The truth is, even that view - that beautiful ocean view - is never the same, not really. Always changing with the tide, the light, the seasons...
Still, it never fails to fill me with awe, gratitude and peace. It always reminds me of where I come from, helps me to where I am going, and guides me back to myself.




And whenever the ocean sees me, it waves!

You are all welcome for that really lame joke, c'mon you know you smiled!

Pause

Busy bees we are. With Spring sprung and ants in the kitchen, there seems always a race. A steady buzz - wax paper folded over comb, we press our lips against and hum. Something is coming. Along with slug season, coy pinks, dangerous yellows and the farmers market, there slips in a notion of promise. Soon the wind will sweep the avenues bringing a snow storm of blushed plum blossoms that will cling to our shoes, holding on. While the hues are almost delicate, shaded - a richness envelopes and becomes anticipation. Waiting in this verdant landscape, is a tempest in a teapot. What is simply green to some, is to me, an almost surreal abundance of color all in the name of green. I am a child of this place and I am feeling my absence from the woods. I have not walked through ferns and fans of Columbine in far too long. While I may not be able to reach my favorite trails today or make the long drive to the coastal forest, I may just take a walk in some damp wooded park. Somewhere where there is a quiet riot of new growth and moss in colors that simply make you take pause.

Breathe deep.