Cool An' Green An' Shady

Find yourself a piece of grassy ground,
Lay down close your eyes.
Lose yourself or maybe find yourself
While your free spirit flies.
- John Denver

When women prepare for childbirth, the instructors will tell them to visualize something that takes their mind off the contractions. I do the same thing when I am getting a cavity filled because I don't let the dentist use Novocaine - my dislike of needles is so intense, I would rather just take my mind somewhere else than be jabbed with a needle. Being able to do this is a skill many disciplines use. And the place I always go is the same...up to the woods where our cabin was in Cushing, MN. This week was particularly stressful for me at work, and as I went to my Saturday massage, I needed to do everything I could to relax for that one hour and make it worth my money for the massage. So I sent my mind up to Cushing while the masseuse took care of my body. And I was astounded at what I could recall...

My dad and his two sisters bought eighty acres of woods from a local farmer in the small town of Cushing, MN. Almost every weekend, we'd pack up the station wagon and head up there. We parked down at what we called Campsite Number One, the level spot down by the road, and walked up the trail past Campsite Number Two on our left. Then the path got narrow between two marshy areas that were lush with ferns and the horsetail rushes we'd make ornate necklaces with. Small logs crossed the path here to help us keep our footing where the ground got muddy. It took a lot of trips up and down the trail to bring up clothes and food and water - and no one wanted to get stuck carrying the five gallon galvanized water jug. It was heavy.

After the marshes the trail got steeper and went through a grove of Aspen trees that, on sunny days, were whiter than white. We would peel bark off them to draw on and do other crafts until my father explained you could kill the tree if you took too much. I can still picture almost every tree along the way. And so we continued up the hill to Campsite Number Three where at the top, you took a slight left and there you were: the open space that held the shed, the A-frame and the dome. The shed was a 10x10' metal shed that stored much of our stuff between seasons while we were still tent camping and before the cabin was built. The A-frame was a small scale experiment into one possible model for our cabin-to-be, but my father and uncle decided not to go with that idea. The little A-frame became the outhouse. And then there was the dome.

My father and uncle researched and decided to build a geodesic dome for our cabin. They laid a floor of old railroad ties and second-hand planking. They cut all the pieces for the dome in my uncle's garage, brought them to Cushing, and then we worked to assemble them. Many years later, my aunt referred to it as "our hippie days". I never thought of my parents as hippies, only that spending all our weekends in the woods was a wonderful way to grow up.

If you went past the dome there was a small path that led to a wonderful rope swing. My cousin Mark took a 100' coil of rope and scaled an impossible height in a perfect tree. It was at the bottom of a hill with very little brush around it. We tied a stick to the bottom of the rope to make a seat. And at the top of the hill, we built a tree stand of sorts to stand on - a log laid across the V of two other trees. You could climb up on it to get extra height, then jump with the rope in a mad tangle of legs to get yourself situated on the seat, and swing across into the treetops on the other side of the little valley at he bottom of the hill. It was exhilarating and we would take turns doing it for hours.

But when I needed to be alone, I went the other direction. Back toward the dome, across the campsite, and a short walk into the woods would take you to a large open grassy area, the gas line. It was about 300' wide and miles long and the county gas line ran under ground. If I kept going, and crossed into the woods on the other side, if I looked for the deer path that provided a small break in the foliage, it would lead me to the place I still go to in my mind 40 years later.

It was at the top of a ridge that gently sloped down to a marsh. I could see all the wildlife that came and went around the edges of the marsh. There was a fallen log to the left that made a wonderful place to sit. I would sit for hours...in peace. There was something that drew me to that place...and still does. All these years later. I can picture every tree. I can feel the warmth of the sun and see how it filters through the leaves. The smell of dried leaves mixes with the fresh humid smell of the earth. The smell of sun mixed with shade.

It was amazing how much more I remembered today during an hour of massage, instead of after an hour of drilling or hours of labor. Still, it's a good place to go. It always has been.