A Palace in the Popple

Limited to working Saturdays, we began the construction of the cabin in late July. First we needed to make inroads through a tangle of dogwood thickets, sumac and wild grape vine until we reached what we felt was a suitable building site. Then we needed to make a clearing. Axes, chain saws, weedeaters and loppers were employed those first few outings. After that it was time to build the foundation, then cut logs - mostly maple but a few red pine - and haul them  to the work area. Most cutting was done within a hundred and fifty yards of the cabin, but when the tractor broke down, carrying them made it seem so much farther. The logs were then notched by hand and chinked with mortar. Above the logs rough cut cherry was used.

The cabin was completed a week ago, situated in the clearing from which the red maples and cottonwoods tower above the dog thicket. Deeper into the property, beyond the thickets, are the mature hardwoods, filled with hickory, oak and more maple. Directly north and east property are massive fields filled with either corn or soy beans and the whitetails who feed on them are here in prolific number. Some of my favorite waterfowling grounds are in close proximity as is the Alabama swamp.

While sitting around the campfire last Friday, I looked up into the night sky. Despite the fire's glow, the stars were incredible. To the north was Cassiopeia, the North star and, directly overhead, a spiral arm of the Milky Way. 

In a few weeks, a couple of long bows will be hanging from the cabin wall,  quivers filled with arrows, and a lake plain woodlot filled with adventure yet to come. But about ten p.m. last Friday evening I wasn't thinking so much about the upcoming hunting season. Sure, I'm looking forward to glimpsing antlers darting through the thickets, the cry of honkers and ducks on the wing, but  looking at the stars, that signature handiwork high overhead, I couldn't help thinking about what really  matters most - and Who is really in charge.