Mrs. Richardson's Cabin, written in 2013

An Exercise in Detail

The students marched up the wintery hill. The writer and Mrs. Martinez lingered behind because the teacher had sought her camera for a picture of the retreating forces. (The writer laughed at her unintentional pun.) The students lined up at the door of the borrowed cabin for a Writer’s Retreat. Before entering the threshold of the cabin, each student bent and removed their shoes when they were near the door. Immediately, the students spread out, seeking to explore before Mrs. Richardson (It was her family cabin built by her grandparents and owned by her cousin) called us to the kitchen to discuss the rules of the house. The kitchen was the warmest room in the house, whereas in the main room the carpet was as cold as ice despite attempts to heat the house. Boys crowded around the pool table, even playing a game (allowed only if they knew how to play) before settling down in that corner to write a bit. Tall wide and clear rectangular pieces of glass covered the two walls furthest from the door- near the boys. Sliding glass doors have access to a thin porch cradling a couple feet of frozen white water connected to a snow-laden bridge above a freezing, dashing stream. Pine trees decorated in white fluff dwarf the cabin ceiling by several feet. Inside, green carpet marked with equal signs of blue and beige cover the floor of the living room, stairs, and loft. Wooden floors make for easy cleanup in the kitchen. Also in the living room, an old squared tv including a dvd player and dvd case seated below it sits next to the vent where the author sat to get toasty warm but her toes froze anyway. A fancy fireplace oven sits in front of a elegant red rug and a long smooth black couch full of pale red, green and brown plaid pillows. It’s to the left of a lamp and tv. The lounging couch sits a student, writing in a notebook. A fancy folding table and aging chairs yet holding onto their gleam of youth occupy the corner next to the stairs. A folded bed stands next to the taller steps- underneath which is a closet. The stair lining isn’t perfectly smooth- a few splinters make this writer yelp. Two small glass chandelier of 6 or 8 lights. Still, there is a few decorations on the wall. A large painting of pioneers paused at a stream for washing claims the tv wall. A huge buffalo head is mounted on the higher side of the stone fireplace. Old skis with boots attached hang above the hidden right side of the room where a lamp and a two player game box with small soccer figures are skewered on poles waiting for unplayed games, mainly gathering dust. Artic snow shoes are suspended above the boys’ heads. On the adjacent wall, the pool table poles are stretched on their rack. A large painting of traveling pioneers holds up the space above the small stair landing.

In the kitchen after lunch, the writer sits on the wooded floor, back against the corner of the hallway. Above the solid wood table and benched, a stained glass box of light.

The writer went snowshoeing up to the mostly frozen waterfall. The snow was amazing, glistening with the frozen shards of snowflakes or ice. It truly was a winter wonderland. Like hard frosting, the snow was smooth at a distance was smooth and up close was full of soft sharp ridges. It was easily broken by a step off the path or a tennis shoe not riding the grip of the claw on the snowshoe. In the midst of trees a few twigs and branches brushed the marching students. The stomping of the single file line filled the air with noise little louder than the silence when everyone stood still. The frozen water next to the waterfall was faintly blue; solid ice. The packed snow near the waterfall became clumped and then the smooth ice which became wavy and finally the clumped in round balls or dangled with sharp points on the edge of the bank. Icicles were easily perceived as hazardous beauty. The first snow piles in the middle of the stream from the melted waterfall appeared as textured as polar bear fur. This writer tried climbing up a mountain of mostly untrampled snow. When she sank into the snow it nearly seem like she was swimming—it was so thick. On top, her mother asked for help up a less traveled path up. The writer grasped her mother’s hand and slid down the hill. In trying to help her mother one more time this writer ended up in the snow upside down. Then this writer had a hard time standing back up until she smoothly sledded down on her pants to the original path.

Once more in the kitchen, the students discuss Winterfest. Family photos and a bookshelf cover the left wall. An electic piano is on a cabinet under a painting next to another window clear sliding door.