Cabin in the Woods
/Our friend Gray invited us out to his family’s cabin in the Upper Peninsula. It was chilly and gloomy and all kinds of cozy — everything I had hoped for from the Northwoods.
The hours passed too quickly at the cabin. All nine of us were very ambitious in bringing multiple activities, handfuls of books, and board games. The only thing the Lake wanted was for us to bathe in each other's company without a looking at the clock.
Of course, we succumbed. The longer we stayed, the easier it became to recondition ourselves to be careless of time. In the few days we were there, we cooked hearty soup and baked pies; made flapjacks with coffee in the mornings; drank hot tea in the evenings after a steam in the sauna; watched animals swim in the lake (an otter!); walked under canopies of fiery orange and yellow leaves; gathered around the radio; and wore smoke-stained clothes. When we did glance at the clock, it would already be 3 in the morning! Our last night was melancholic. We felt the creeping of time, closed our eyes to hang on to those soft moments, hoping we had enough, and wishing it was infinite.