Little Cabins in the Big Woods

"Well there's more than
One way home
Ain't no right way
Ain't no wrong
And whatever road you
Might be on
You find your own way
'Cause there's more than
One way home"
~Keb' Mo', More Than One Way Home

Y'know... I almost started doubting myself. Started thinking that maybe I had overly romantic notions in my dream-filled head of life in the woods, that maybe it wasn't the soul's feast I'd imagined it to be at first sight. Foolish girl. Having delivered my first load (Grandma's old enamel cup is there now, so it's mine, mine, mine, all mine), I can very assuredly say that this is where I've belonged all along. This is the Pacific NW I've been searching for. This is the kind of place I longed for when I used to watch episodes of Northern Exposure (back in my D.C. days), bawl my eyes out, and think, "wherever that is, that's where I need to be..."

It's a place of peace and contentment, but not at all complacency. It's stirring in so many ways, not the least of which is the natural beauty that surrounds the place. It's in the heart of the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest after all. It's gorgeous, gloriously so. One would have to be comatose to not feel some sort of spiritual up swell. I can easily see myself getting lost in a creative vortex there.

Good pal Wendi made the trip up there with me and we spent some time wandering around down by the river, oohing and ahhing at the beautiful river rocks (which were only made prettier by the return of the rain). I found a huck of petrified wood bigger than my head, and so many pretty chunks of granite. I have plans to haul some of them up to ring the fire pit (currently surrounded by boring bricks).

We saw an adorable little black bear about two miles before the turnoff to the cabins. He was galumphing along the side of the road, took one look at Birddog and headed off into the brush. I took it as a good omen and as I was grinning, thought to myself, "Holy shit! I really am going to be living in the woods! Finally!! I've found a place in nature's playground."

...and in the heart of the gypsy played a wild, resounding back beat that lent itself to the cadence of the river and the tango and hush of leaves dancing in the trees.