A CABIN IN THE WOODS

When I was younger, I used to dream of having a cabin in the woods. A simple cabin nestled among cedars and hardwoods somewhere in the Ozarks Mountains of Missouri near where I grew up on my Grandma and Grandpa’s farm south of a small town, at that time, called Nixa.

My grandma used to tell me that if I dreamed long enough and worked hard enough my dreams would come true. Grandma was right. After our sons had moved out, married, and started their own families, my wife and I found and bought a small cabin to spend weekends at. It was south of Ozark, Missouri, on five wooded acres, but it was surrounded by the thousands of acres of the Mark Twain National Forest.

It sat upon a rock bluff overlooking a creek and waterfall. It was surrounded by cedars, hardwoods, and a scattering of pines. The trees kept it hidden from the view of the few cars that traveled the gravel road and offered shade and protection from the summer’s sun and the cold winds of winter.

Over the years, we added to the cabin, built a deck, installed half-log siding, built a a large barn and a smaller barn to store our ATVs and other stuff. They were also great for making hiking sticks, birdhouses, bird feeders, and other things. They were places for grandkids to play when it was raining.

A small wood stove sat in a corner of the cabin, keeping it warm on winter days. Antique snowshoes hung on a wall on both sides of moose antlers. Taxidermy mounts of deer, turkey,  pheasant, ducks, trout, bass, and a big muskie hung on the walls. Fox, beaver and raccoon pelts further added to the setting. Each had a special memory and a story.

Deer antlers, turtle shells, feathers, buckeyes, rocks, bird nests, and other things could be found everywhere you looked. Most had been picked up by grandkids while on cabin adventures. They mixed in with the antiques that were my wife’s special touch. Some were from Grandpa and Grandma’s farm.

Most noticeable were the pictures of our kids and grandkids hung on the walls with loving care and sitting on shelves. Pictures of them with turkey, deer, fish, playing in the creek, riding ATVs, or just having a good time at the cabin. Pictures of when they were babies, as well as pictures of them as young adults.

Looking out the windows of our cabin, we would see birds of all kinds coming to the feeders we put out. April through October was hummingbird time, and not just a few. Hundreds would come into all our feeders. They were a sight that thrilled everyone who visited our cabin.

The deck was a great place to watch squirrels playing in the woods, butterflies landing on wild flowers, or bats diving for insects in a summer’s night sky. Also for watching thousands of fireflies. You could sit on that deck and hear the waterfall as it cascaded down Dogwood Mountain. 

You could listen to the sounds of the creek as it flowed across the riffles below. You could hear owls talking to each other. You could hear a kingfisher making its unique sound as it flew above the water. You could hear crows cawing in the valley. You could hear a turkey gobbling.

The fire pit off the deck and another one down by the waterfall were where grandkids roasted marshmallows and shared time with us adults. They were a place to watch the flames dance and flicker as the worry and stress from my work week melted away. It was a place for fish fries, cookouts, and fellowship.

We all loved the creek. We went therefor fishing, swimming, snorkeling, wading, catching crawdads, skipping rocks, playing on the gravel bar, or in the waterfall. We rode our ATVS along all the trails in the valley and up the hills to go hunting for deer and turkey, looking for shed antlers, exploring, or for the fun of it.

Good neighbors Bob and Barb, Wayne and Jane, Annie and Winnie, Doug and Kim, Judge John, Sheila and Willie all loved the valley too. With them, we also shared hiking trails, ATV rides, campfires, and pieces of our lives.

Spring at the cabin was redbuds, dogwoods, and wildflowers. It was the sound of peeper frogs and whip-poor-wills. Summer was for fishing, swimming, relaxing or playing in the creek. Fall brought a kaleidoscope of color, hunting season, looking for buckeyes, hiking, and cutting wood for the cold months ahead. Winter was books by the fire, making new hiking trails, and hiking in the snow.

The twenty years of owning the cabin passed quickly, and things changed. Our

kids and grandkids were older and were busy with their own lives. They didn’t come to the cabin as much anymore. The older grandkids didn’t come except for deer season. They went to the lake with friends rather than coming to the creek. 

Younger grandkids were a long drive away in Wisconsin. Our son and his wife bought their own cabin on a lake. We made trips up there to spend time with them. I can assure you that all of them will always have memories of wonderful times at our cabin in the woods. 

Grandma and I got older, too. Maintenance on the cabin and the property became hard for me. Our weekends there were still special to us, but not the same as they once were. It was time for another change. As long as we live, we will still have the memories and the pictures. 

It was hard to say goodbye to the cabin. It was time to find someone else who had a dream of owning a cabin in the woods. We interviewed people who were interested, hoping to find just the right people. We did. A young couple with two girls who loved the outdoors. They are making their own memories now at a cabin in the woods.

Another reason for finally letting our cabin go was that for those twenty years, we skipped church. My excuse was that we didn’t need to go to church because we could worship God just as well while enjoying the cabin. I was wrong. It was time for us to go back to church.

We found a church called Sac River Cowboy Church very close to our home. It is different than any church we ever attended. There are many, like us, whose families are busy, and they don’t see them much except for holidays. Some don’t even get that. We love each other, we pray for each other, we are there for each other, however needed. We are family. It is like going home each week.

I miss my grandkids when they were little, but I have many kids who come to me at church, and I get down on my knees to get my hugs. I love that. Some have grown so much that I no longer have to get down on my knees. They are all special to me. The newest is a little boy with big eyes, fat cheeks, and curly hair who has really captured this old man’s heart. Then there is a special family with five kids that I get hugs from all of them. We have two families with four kids each that were adopted. I get hugs from them. There is even one very special bigger kid that gives me hugs and three hand squeezes that means, I love you.

I wipe tears from my eyes as I finish writing this. Our cabin was more than just a cabin. It was a living structure with a soul of memories and dreams. It was a place to escape my work week, to share with others, and to share fragments of our life with the nature that surrounded us and the people in our lives.

That has all been replaced by our special church and all the people that are an important part of our lives. As long as I live, we will still have memories of a cabin in the woods.