I was really lucky growing up because we had a family cottage.  I don’t think I thought I was lucky at the time.  It was a 4 1/2 hour drive and an hour or more of that was on gravel, dirt, and ‘not really’ road which was a hideous experience for someone who wasn’t tall enough to see out the window and suffered horrible motion sickness.  We would only be there for an overnight or so, and then we would head back home.

The cottage was really a cabin in the woods.  It had electricity.  Running water was us running down to the lake to fill the bucket and running back.  Heat was provided by a wood stove.  We had an outhouse, with room for two, that was a hike up the hill.  When I was younger the outhouse had half walls and a roof.  There was no escape from the weather or the bugs.  We felt like we were heading up in the world when the outhouse was  rebuilt with walls and windows.  It still had two holes, which was a huge convenience, especially at night when darkness, coupled with being in the woods and an overactive imagination made going up to the outhouse alone not for the faint of heart.

The cottage never evolved from being a cabin in the woods.  Something I truly appreciated when I brought my own children up to it.  My favourite time of year to go up was September.  One year we went up for the whole month.   A month of no television, no Internet, no traffic sounds, no telephones, no streetlights.  A month of canoe meanders, hikes in the woods, baking in a toaster oven, icy cold lake baths, watching the leaves change colour, and wildlife television.

The cottage had a huge front window and about 4 metres from the window was a bird feeder.  Every morning and after lunch one of us would load up the feeder with seeds and peanuts.  When we were eating or having a peaceful moment we would sit and look out the window to watch the antics of the wildlife and birds.  It was soothing to watch and identify the birds (except for the hummingbird if that creature was any bigger it would be a terrifying thing to behold;  they are very territorial and have no fear).  The main attraction was the battle between the red squirrel and the chipmunks.  Flying leaps, frantic chase scenes, squeaks of surprise, and exclamations of dominance were regular occurrences.  It was like watching the Keystone Cops.  We laughed so much watching the ongoing scrabble for feeder control.

The cottage is no longer in the family, it was sold a couple years back.  Attempting to capture some of the essence of that space, we hung a bird feeder on our porch in front of the kitchen window.  Although I don’t have a local red squirrel and a troop of chipmunks to keep me entertained, I do have an unexpectedly large variety of song birds that frequent my feeder.  I will sit with a hot cup of tea, feet up, and watch the birds as I collect my thoughts for the day.  Lately, I am frequently joined by one or more of my kids as I gaze out the window.