|Gayle at her cabin.|
Lodgepole pines stretch their gray trunks heavenward like necks of giraffes. The trees tower above the 12x40 foot wood-sided cabin, offering shade from the searing sun, its warm rays rife at the 8,000-foot elevation. Thoreau had his Walden's Pond; I have my Peaceable Kingdom, three+ acres of Rocky Mountain forest at the top of Casper Mountain. Although other cabins are visible through the lacy lodgepole branches, rarely is my solace disturbed, for other cabin owners don't frequent their private paradises as I do mine – that truth adds to the quaking quiet.
For more than five years, I've spent weekends and weekday evenings surrounded by nature's splendor: green-suited hummingbirds darting through the still sky; tawny-eared mule deer sauntering on dry-needled, sparsely-grassed ground; auburn-shirted pine squirrels chattering from overhead tree branches, and heavy-headed yellow daisies yawning in the early-morning light.
|The rescue cocker spaniels, Mary (in chair)|
and Cody, keep Gayle company.
Each visit, each overnight, renders words on the page that spill forth like warm water fountains in Yellowstone, frothing and steaming to be freed from their confines. The words, whether paragraphs on a computer screen or sentences in a lined composition notebook, produce a satisfactory, albeit edit-able piece; like an appetite satiated, I come away from my cabin experience appeased. What bursts forth may not be my most profound work, but it is palatable, and I later trim the fat or add more flavoring.
|Swallowtail butterfly on arrowleaf phlox.|
Laura had her Little House on the Prairie and Little House in the Big Woods. I have a combination – my Little Cabin in the Tall Woods of the Great Plains. With woodstove billowing even in mid-summer and lantern or solar light producing a soft glow amid snoring dogs and creaking crickets, a new paragraph is birthed and a new idea illuminated like the light surrounding me. At the cabin in the forest atop the mountain my senses are awakened from their dull sleepiness and my writings spring forth from their hibernation, taking flight like woodland songbirds then perching in the place they are meant to inhabit.
Susan chimes in...
What a beautiful place to write, and what a connection Gayle clearly has to her cabin. Something about getting out in nature can really free us to write. I know when I took a weekend in Esterbrook it jarred a lot of words loose. If you don't have your own cabin, make a date with the outdoors. Treat yourself to a weekend away someplace beautiful. Your notebooks will thank you.
Gayle M. Irwin, Casper, is a freelance writer and the author of five inspirational dog books. These include three books for children and two devotional-style books for families. She's written short stories that are part of five different Chicken Soup for the Soul books, including the latest dog book, The Dog Did What? She writes regularly for Our Town Casper magazine, a monthly publication, and for the weekly Casper Journal newspaper. Her stories and columns also appear in the Douglas Budget and River Press newspapers, and she has contributed writings to Creation Illustrated, WREN, and Crossroads magazines.