Ah, the cabin. It’s a special place. It’s a place where you can go and get away from everything. It weaves a spell of relaxation on you. People ask us, what do you do up there without a phone, TV or internet? But we do have TV, I tell them: Cabin TV, and it has various channels.
Such as the Bird Channel:

the Front Porch Channel:


and the Fireplace Channel.

All the channels keep us entertained. There is no pre-programming, nor is there a viewing guide. They all come in HD with full surround sound.

Take the Bird Channel for instance. It’s colorful and the programs change constantly. Bright blue stellar jays let everyone in the forest know that the food has been put out with their raucous cawing. Chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, ruby crowned kinglets, and my personal favorite, the hermit thrush**[see side story below], all add to the symphony. And let’s not forget the whirring of hummingbird wings and the chittering arguments over who’s flower it is. The Bird Channel also features squirrels, ground squirrels, and chipmunks.

The Front Porch Channel is a bit more varied. Although it includes the Bird Channel, it can also feature moose, deer, elk or a coyote. We didn’t see any of those this time around, and since the salt lick is no longer there they have less of a reason to visit us. This channel comes with the additional sound of Bart Creek, splashing and tumbling over mini waterfalls as it flows through the bottom of the forest, engorged with spring run-off. Side Note: [Bart Creek was named for our dog Bart, that we recently lost. He was our water dog. He loved to wade in the creek. He would get right out in the middle of it, water up to his stomach, and just meander along.]

The Fireplace Channel is a mesmerizing one. Flames leap and dance in an ever-changing pattern. Logs shift and fall as they burn. Snap. Crackle. Pop. Time to add more wood ... Sometimes the Fireplace Channel comes with the added bonus of a poetry reading, usually Robert Service or cowboy poetry, by Rick.

I think you get the idea. It’s a hard place to leave.

**Side Story: It took me years to figure out what kind of bird we were hearing early in the morning and at dusk. It’s crystal clear flute-like notes would pierce the air. Ethereal, haunting. My “Birding by Ear” CD did not help with the identification. For years we called it “Flea-by-the-sea-bird” because Rick had made up a little ditty to remember how its song went. Four ascending notes: flea-by-the-sea; then four descending notes: don’t-bite-at-me. I know, it’s silly ditty but it helped us remember how it sounded. Finally I realized it was in the thrush family because of when it sang, and went through all thrushes on my larger bird CD until I found one that matched. Hence, the hermit thrush. They come back every year.**