In the midst of yet another sweltering summer, we took my good friend Melissa up on a generous offer to gather at her family’s cabin on Big Pine Lake. My family didn’t grow up with a cabin, which makes me feel like not a full Minnesotan. My parents believed that our camper allowed us to see new places, which was true. However, being in Melissa’s family’s cabin, where there were literally generations of new growth marked on the support beams, made me yearn for such a marker of time. It felt like a sacred space, woven with traditions, stories, hard work, and memories. Also, it was filled with thoughtful design touches and heirlooms.
We were there during the week, which made it feel like it was all our own. We mostly ate and talked, but we did cruise around and comment on the increasingly large homes replacing the hand-built cabins of ancestors. It was a much-needed retreat.
