My Little Piece of Solitude
(December 2019)
I miss it. It calls my name throughout the day. I watch as the minutes slowly go by…tick, tick, tick. I long for the time when I can once again feel the safety and comfort that I do when I’m wrapped up in its silken softness. To snuggle beneath its covers, close my eyes, and shut out the outside world. It’s not sadness that brings me to this place. It’s the joy of knowing that there is one place in this world where I can truly be myself…by myself. It’s a place where I decide if I want to share it with someone. No one can just come in and make it their own.
It’s a place where I dream, write, or just sleep. It doesn’t care what I dream about, if I can write a coherent sentence, or if I just sleep in silence. That’s what’s great about this special place. It forgives. It won't withhold its warmth and softness if I show up late at night or unexpectedly. It continues to welcome me with open arms.
Sometimes I pull the covers over it while I’m away to keep it neat, but mostly I leave it open as it waits for my return. It doesn’t care how long I’m away as long as I return. I wonder, at times, if it enjoys my company as much as I enjoy being there.
(December 2019)
I miss it. It calls my name throughout the day. I watch as the minutes slowly go by…tick, tick, tick. I long for the time when I can once again feel the safety and comfort that I do when I’m wrapped up in its silken softness. To snuggle beneath its covers, close my eyes, and shut out the outside world. It’s not sadness that brings me to this place. It’s the joy of knowing that there is one place in this world where I can truly be myself…by myself. It’s a place where I decide if I want to share it with someone. No one can just come in and make it their own.
It’s a place where I dream, write, or just sleep. It doesn’t care what I dream about, if I can write a coherent sentence, or if I just sleep in silence. That’s what’s great about this special place. It forgives. It won't withhold its warmth and softness if I show up late at night or unexpectedly. It continues to welcome me with open arms.
Sometimes I pull the covers over it while I’m away to keep it neat, but mostly I leave it open as it waits for my return. It doesn’t care how long I’m away as long as I return. I wonder, at times, if it enjoys my company as much as I enjoy being there.
A Walk In The Woods
(February 2017)
Winters in northeastern Minnesota can be brutal. Temperatures can drop to twenty below zero in a heartbeat, especially after the sun goes down. Caroline Masterson knew this before she left home one winter morning after she decided to go hiking at Tettegouche State Park along the shore of Lake Superior. She planned to be out of the woods before nightfall.
She had walked the trails at Tettegouche many times during the summer and was very comfortable in her surroundings. However, the snowfall that covered the ground the night before was making it difficult for her to stay on the trail. The farther she walked into the woods, the deeper the snow became until the trail disappeared from sight. When she turned around to follow her footsteps out of the woods, the blowing snow had covered her tracks. She found herself wandering in circles. "I can't believe I got myself lost," she whispered.
The branches of the spruce and pine trees drooped to the ground from the heavy snow. The temperature was beginning to drop and the bitter, frigid wind burned her cheeks. The hand warmers inside her gloves had become useless against the cold.
Seeing an isolated cabin in the woods ahead of her was a welcomed site. The radiant glow from inside the cabin warmed her before she even reached the door. There were footprints on the porch twice the size of her own which worried her, but her only thought was getting out of the cold.
She tapped on the door. Within seconds, a large, husky man wearing a flannel plaid shirt, heavy pants and work boots appeared at the door. His appearance startled her, but her frozen, aching feet wouldn't let her turn and run. "Who are you?" He asked, his voice deep and gravely. He popped his head out the door, "How'd you get here?"
She started shivering. "H-H-Hello. M-M-My name is Caroline Masterson," she started, "I was hiking the Tettegouche trail and somehow got off course."
"Well, come on in," he said, opening the door further, "You must be frozen!"
"I am. Thank you," she said.
"You took a chance hiking on a day like this." He wiped his calloused hand on his pants before offering it to her. "The name's John Martin. Come on in and have a seat over there by the fire."
"Pleased to meet you, John," she said, moving across the room. "It was nice out when I started hiking, but then the wind switched and the sun went down."
The cabin was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. It was meticulous in spite of the antlers and beaver pelts hanging on the walls. The bear skin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace almost made her chuckle. To her, it looked like a hunting cabin you'd see in the movies.
John hung her coat on a hook near the door. "I was just getting ready to eat dinner," he said, as the chime of the oven timer went off. "I hope you like venison roast."
A lasting friendship was forged between two strangers as they talked until the crack of dawn. She fell asleep on the bear skin rug and John fell asleep on the couch. In the morning, John made breakfast before walking Caroline back to the trail head. He invited her to come and visit again. "I'd like that," she said, returning his smile.
(February 2017)
Winters in northeastern Minnesota can be brutal. Temperatures can drop to twenty below zero in a heartbeat, especially after the sun goes down. Caroline Masterson knew this before she left home one winter morning after she decided to go hiking at Tettegouche State Park along the shore of Lake Superior. She planned to be out of the woods before nightfall.
She had walked the trails at Tettegouche many times during the summer and was very comfortable in her surroundings. However, the snowfall that covered the ground the night before was making it difficult for her to stay on the trail. The farther she walked into the woods, the deeper the snow became until the trail disappeared from sight. When she turned around to follow her footsteps out of the woods, the blowing snow had covered her tracks. She found herself wandering in circles. "I can't believe I got myself lost," she whispered.
The branches of the spruce and pine trees drooped to the ground from the heavy snow. The temperature was beginning to drop and the bitter, frigid wind burned her cheeks. The hand warmers inside her gloves had become useless against the cold.
Seeing an isolated cabin in the woods ahead of her was a welcomed site. The radiant glow from inside the cabin warmed her before she even reached the door. There were footprints on the porch twice the size of her own which worried her, but her only thought was getting out of the cold.
She tapped on the door. Within seconds, a large, husky man wearing a flannel plaid shirt, heavy pants and work boots appeared at the door. His appearance startled her, but her frozen, aching feet wouldn't let her turn and run. "Who are you?" He asked, his voice deep and gravely. He popped his head out the door, "How'd you get here?"
She started shivering. "H-H-Hello. M-M-My name is Caroline Masterson," she started, "I was hiking the Tettegouche trail and somehow got off course."
"Well, come on in," he said, opening the door further, "You must be frozen!"
"I am. Thank you," she said.
"You took a chance hiking on a day like this." He wiped his calloused hand on his pants before offering it to her. "The name's John Martin. Come on in and have a seat over there by the fire."
"Pleased to meet you, John," she said, moving across the room. "It was nice out when I started hiking, but then the wind switched and the sun went down."
The cabin was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. It was meticulous in spite of the antlers and beaver pelts hanging on the walls. The bear skin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace almost made her chuckle. To her, it looked like a hunting cabin you'd see in the movies.
John hung her coat on a hook near the door. "I was just getting ready to eat dinner," he said, as the chime of the oven timer went off. "I hope you like venison roast."
A lasting friendship was forged between two strangers as they talked until the crack of dawn. She fell asleep on the bear skin rug and John fell asleep on the couch. In the morning, John made breakfast before walking Caroline back to the trail head. He invited her to come and visit again. "I'd like that," she said, returning his smile.