Creating the Cottage

There once was a young couple, looking for their forever home. They searched high and low, over hill and dale, along river banks and in high mountains. They visited many lovely and beautiful houses, in lovely and beautiful places, but none that felt right.

Then, they found the one. A cozy, newly-built brown A-frame, on the edge of the woods, a few acres with a river at its border. Painted light brown, like new growth on a baby tree, on a sunny plot carved out of farmland and forest. The couple looked at each other and smiled. “This is the one.”

They worked hard to make it their own. Besides the forest behind the home, the yard was bare, nothing but dirt with tracks from building equipment. The couple tilled the ground themselves — over an acre of it! — pushing a small rototiller, adding grass seed, and raking out the soil. They planted trees: white pines that would grow taller than the house, a brilliantly bright maple, a cherry blossom tree that would bloom each Mother’s Day, a birch that watched protectively over the home. They planted shrubs along the front of the house, flowers along the side, and a garden in the back. The garden blossomed with vegetables, sunflowers, annuals and perennials of every shape, size and color. She tended to the gardens while he built decks off the house, on both the top and bottom floors. In the evenings, they sat on these decks and admired the views created by their hard work.

In the summer, they’d swim in the pool they installed, and dry in the sun on the pool deck they built. They would take their canoe down the river, waving to the herons and mergansers. In the winter, they would sit in front of the fireplace, the anchor of the home in the heart of the living room. Throughout the year they would entertain friends and family, their joy and laughter ringing throughout the night. They had done more than build a house — they had built a home.

Eventually, they had a daughter, bringing her home from the hospital in the middle of a blizzard. As the snow fell and fell and fell outside, slowly burying the house and yard, the couple cradled their daughter and walked her around, showing her her new home. Her curious eyes observed every detail, but always trailed back to the window, watching the snowflakes dance about.

Their daughter would grow alongside the trees, climbing the cherry blossom and frolicking through the daffodils and lilacs. She would hide in the pines and dart around the roots of the maple. When her dad would repaint the living room, she’d pretend the tarp-covered furniture were castles and forts. When her mom cooked in the kitchen, she’d dance and sing in the dining room, anticipating the delicious upcoming meal. In the summer nights, she’d dance with the fireflies as her parents chatted on the porch, under the light of the stars and the moon. In the winter, she’d build snowmen and be pushed down hills in her sled by her dad, while her mom made hot chocolate to warm their bones. In the spring and autumn, her family would take her on walks through the neighborhood, admiring the babbling brooks, the roaring river, and the historic homes nearby. They’d teach her to ride a bike on these streets, and wave to the neighbors in their yards.

As she grew, her room changed color, her decor changed. She experienced new friendships, triumph, heartbreak, life lessons. She went on many adventures and tried many exciting things, but always returned to her parents’ warm embrace, and the comfort of Home. Eventually, she brought home a handsome and kind young man, and the family grew. Together, they would kayak down the river during the day, and sit by the firepit and listen to katydids at night.

In their older years, the couple embraced their hobbies and life passions. She would write poems and stories, paint and illustrate, creating worlds from her imagination, while he worked in the yard. He would blaze a trail from the house to the river, expanding their physical world to include the lively forest ecosystem. Their daughter would forage in these woods, picking ramps and blackberries, while befriending foxes, eagles, and muskrats.

The Cottage in the moonlight

The world around them changed. New houses were built, neighbors came and went, new plants grew while old trees died. But the family’s bond remained steadfast and true, the strength of their Home never wavering. For this Home, this Cottage, was built from the ground up, and has the sturdiest of foundations. It is a Home built and filled with Love, the strongest foundation of all.

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