It's that time, at last!

We are in the final throes of packing to open up the cabin for the season. We just backed the trailer into the garage. The post mistresses on both ends are all set.To-do lists are everywhere, and piles of things are starting to appear in the house. Big plastic square bins are the best for packing. You can snap their lids on and stack them up nicely.

Friends from the cabin are checking in; and the snowbirds are slowly driving north. Warblers have arrived here and are singing like mad, which means we'll be up north in time for their arrival there. Strong southerly winds are likely propelling them along. We hope to get there before the hummingbirds arrive.

Seasonal migration is a big undertaking for humans. I wonder how the migrating birds prepare; probably they gorge themselves on bugs as they fly north, trying to keep up their body weight. At least they don't have to worry about to-do lists.

First night at the cabin

Some close family members bought a cabin today. They called us from their new place as they sat before the fire, savoring the moment.

There is nothing like the first night at your cabin. The air is filled with a wild sweetness, and the night sounds of the woods keep you awake. The cabin logs expand and crack. Spring peepers and choruses of frogs sing all night. A couple of owls may pay a visit and hoot for a while. Loons laugh in the far cove. Who knew it could be so noisy in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?

Soon, though, those sounds become a lullaby, and not just when you're at the cabin, but during the months when you're away, in the city. How many nights I've laid in bed at home, or even traveling far from home, lulling myself to sleep with thoughts of a summer night at the cabin with the windows open to the night sounds.

That very first night in your cabin is a special milestone. So, here's to you, new cabin owners!  May you make many wonderful memories in your well deserved piece of paradise!

Excellent Essay in Downeast Magazine - "Cabin Noises"

Meg Adams has written a beautiful essay in the February, 2011 Downeast Magazine about waking up at her family cabin when sleeping in the loft. Bravo, Meg!

Here's the link to the story:  "Cabin Noises" by Meg Adams

Midwinter

Tomorrow it's midwinter. It's about 90 days until our big drive north to the cabin. That's assuming the snow melts and the mud dries enough for us to make it the last mile into camp.

Until then, near Boston winter is at its most robust. The deepest cold periods are done and now it's all about the snow. It's piled up to about four feet beside the roads. Ice dams glisten on the roofs. We're out shoveling so often we don't need to greet our neighbors anymore. Yet there is gradual melting, and we can feel more power in the sunshine each lengthening day. Today goldfinches appeared at our feeder, the yellow in their feathers still muted. But when they chirp and fly in dipping arcs, they're singing of the spring to come.

Meantime, we read our books about the north. We connect with our cabin friends by e-mail and phone. We're already planning the season.

For Old Time's Sake - Happy New Year!

Tonight we say goodbye to 2010. Many of us will sing "Auld Lang Syne" but few of us will understand its meaning. In Scotland it is sung not only at New Year's but also at funerals, graduations, changes of government, and so on. The song asks: Is it right that old aquaintenances be forgotten forever? It then answers: we...'ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne (for old times' sake).

So, Happy New Year, and may you create many wonderful memories in 2011, the kind worth remembering in song, verse, or just in your own grateful self.

Woodsmoke from Old Cabins - A Fantastic Story About Log Cabins by Edmund Ware Smith

The late writer Edmund Ware Smith is one of our idols. He wrote many stories and books about the northern Maine woods, capturing its mystique perfectly.

We just came across a story he wrote for Sports Illustrated in 1954.

Enjoy, enjoy. This is vintage Edmund. The link is below.

Woodsmoke from Old Cabins

Waiting for Earl

It's been a very dry and warm August up here in northern Maine. We and our very patient houseguests have coped with the hot (90 degree F) days by eating dinner early, cooking meals that require little additional heat, and going out to enjoy the cool evening air on the lake. Yesterday I went swimming twice off a friend's dock, which helped during the afternoon. After supper, the men went fishing and in the process came upon a mother and baby moose. We women watched the sunset from the screened in porch of a neighbor. After dark, a soaking rainstorm passed through, and this morning, a mist is rising over the 'stream' in front of our cabin. In the mist, the loon parents are teaching their baby to call. So far, it's only making airy squeaks, but even those sounds carry over the still water. Tonight, Hurricane Earl will pass by off shore and will hopefully leave lots of rain for us. Meantime, the hummingbirds (females anyway) are still here. Some warblers, migrating south no doubt, are twittering. And groups of Canada geese gather in the stream. We can't wait for the predicted cooler weather to follow Earl.