It was the year I was living in Monroe,
In the woods, just a few yards west of Woods lake.
I had cleared a small area for a small cabin
Some nights I slept in a tent, some nights I slept at a buddy’s abandoned house about 2 or 3 miles down the road.
The Property is 11 miles north of Highway 2,
It is mostly 2nd growth cedars now, 1st growth was taken in the 60s, though there are some stumps left from a fire that was started by lightening.
One of which a hundred yards or so from the build sight had been hollowed out by time, dirt floor, empty space of maybe a 7 foot diameter
The top 6 or so feet up was shaped like a cave.
I had placed a foldable chair and small table there for sitting,
Of which I would do so often, listen to the rain dance on leaves, or wind play with branches an occasional deer would walk by and not even notice that I was sitting there with my cup of tea.
It was an escape into this tree that I liked the best of Monroe.
There is something indescribable about being inside of a tree trunk unseen while you watch the weather, birds and creatures.
Something like a live action tv I guess with smell of wood, leaves, dirt and rot, no one knows that you are there.
It is a peace that I can only imagine one can find when they are truly separated from the world and all its dysfunctional hustle and bustle.
We think of Full Moons as magical, beautiful and mysterious, I guess we do so for its folklore.
I will say, the woods are different under Full Moons, trees and paths are lit at night, you can walk and see your feet, where you are going, you can see subtle shades of green, browns, reds.
There are also shadows.
Shadows of differing greys and shapes, they move with the clouds that come between you and the moon, this accents the sounds of moving branches and leaves that the breeze or wind, or small creatures make. Creatures are busier, Owls, Coyotes, Raccoons, Mice.
It is their time, they take advantage of the moon and the deer are aware.
This is where being in a Hallowed out Old Growth Cedar is a Harbor,
The breeze will enter, swirl inside its cave, give you the scents of the forest, exit with the sounds of the breeze, of the wind, of the branches of the leaves
and the sounds of a hoot owl.
Transit Transients and Other Stories 