When I pulled up to the quaint little cabin, I had some doubt in my mind. I figured maybe I was getting the wrong place, or at the very least I was early for the event. I knew that I had typed the address correctly in my GPS, but some of the forest trails are challenging to navigate. I took note of the sign in the yard that read “The Writer’s Cabin’ and parked my jeep behind an older minivan.
A very small sign in the front yard of the log cabin read ''The Writer’s Cabin’ followed by the number for the cabin with a dot in the middle of the number five. The area in front of the cabin was neatly groomed with the usual outdoor rustic gathering: wooden picnic table, stone fire pit, and a wide wooden porch. To the side of the cabin was a small cut out path that ran between some trees up to the side door, where an inviting light shone. I walked up on the porch and knocked on the door frame, calling out a hello to the house. As I did, I looked around at the various items on the porch, as well as a large plastic bucket and a gardening pick. I felt stupid for knocking, when the door was wide open. I considered just walking in, but there was something about the inviting light and warm glow that called me back.
“Hello?” I called out as I slowly walked through the opening in the door. I walked inside and was greeted with a friendly smile. Slanting his well-cared for beard, he looked up at me from his computer and said, “It is nice to meet you.”
“Hello again,” I said, and held out my hand for a handshake. He stooped down and took my hand in a firm shake. I looked around, and he asked me if I would like a cup of tea and a snack from the kitchen. I offered to help take care of things, but it was clear he knew what he was doing. He assured that it was no trouble.
I said thank you and watched as he put the kettle on. He asked me what kind of tea that I had, because he had a selection in the kitchen that I may enjoy. I told him that I did not care, and he smiled. I know now that this was the first sign that I was in the presence of a very welcoming man, with an easy and light attitude.
He excused himself for a moment and walked into the back room. I looked around a bit, and took in the aromas of the place. It was a musty smell, but in a good way, like that of a library, mixed with the smell of fresh cut wood. As I walked through the living room, where the warmth from a fire was radiating, I noticed the wide open layout. I noted that there was a lot of space in this house, and a comfortable place to be.
The table was set for tea, and he popped the lid on the small bag of chocolate digestive biscuits. I smiled, and we started the conversation. We chatted about our jobs, families, and our individual hobbies. There was a sense of ease between us, as if we were old friends or family members. Before I knew it, we were out on the porch talking with the late afternoon light and getting caught up. I liked him very much, as well as his house, as well as his curious nature.
The sun was starting to set and the night air was starting to settle in where it was not a comfort before. We were cold, but we had each other for warmth. As I was looking for a place to set my tea, he said something like, “I have a space in my room that I have been thinking about building a desk for some time now. If you would like, I could use your help.”
I did enjoy wood working, so I accepted his offer. As I took a drink of tea, I asked him a question that had been looming for sometime. “How long have you lived in this area?”
“I’ve lived in this area for about five years, but I work from home, so I have not had much interaction in the neighborhood - certainly not enough to travel up to the nearest town for a bite to eat.” He was staring at me intently as if trying to read into me.
I said, “I see. I’m usually always on the road, and I rarely get out for more than gas. I could really use a good meal.”
“That would be a great idea. How about tonight? It seems like it would be a nice night to get some fresh air, fresh apple pie, and a big chunk of cow.” I looked down and started to wonder at the mention of cow, but he called me back to what he was saying.
“That sounds great,” I agreed.
He got up from his seat and said, “We should take up some space on that deck out there. It will be nice for some fresh air.”
He unlocked his sliding glass door and we stepped down to the wooden deck. He went over to a side table and opened up a wooden case, inside of which were some of the most beautiful cigars I had ever seen. “Are you interested in a smoke?”
I told him no, but he took one out anyways. He quickly lit it up, and I noted that he took a few long drags on his cigar. I stood up and he looked at me, “I’m going to walk down a piece and take a short break. I’ll be right back.”
I watched him as he walked down the path a few feet, then turned and started to look around. “What a beautiful spot,” I whispered to myself. I heard his footsteps behind me, but I did not look at him; I was too busy admiring the surroundings.
After finishing his walk down the path, he came back up to the deck. I walked back into the kitchen and started to set some plates and forks down for us to eat. He had a very interesting look on his face as he said he would set the table. “I like your touch on the plates,” he commented.
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