Your hidden cabin in the woods

Hidden tiny cabin in the woods

Some morning, when you least suspect it, you will perhaps stumble upon your own hidden cabin in the woods.

Red boards, old window

You will recognize it from your dreams.  It has called you through the wind in the aspen, through the rustling of the spruce, from the cooing of mourning doves. 

Sky, frost, window

When you find your hidden cabin, the cabin you’ve searched for all your life, you will find yourself home.

Etchings in frost

This hidden home mirrors your deepest longings, your deepest remembrances. 

The cracked paint and weathered boards do not matter.  Inside you can hear the faint steady heartbeat coming from the Spirit of the Hearth. 

You move closer.


Boat of your dreams


The boat of your dreams, the boat to freedom, rests outside your true hidden cabin. 

In the spring you  pull your boat to the shore and cast off into unknown waters.  You steer with the waves, the wind as your guide. 

The eagle calls overhead.  It glides into its own hidden nest, its own hidden home, with trout for the hatchlings.

Keep rowing. 

You carry your home with you now, always.

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
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14 Responses to Your hidden cabin in the woods

  1. Kathy, your words and photographs carried me away. Thank you.

  2. Dawn says:

    I love (the most) the third picture, showing the pines in reflection. What a wonderful little cabin! Did you really accidentally stumble on it?

    • Kathy says:

      Dawn, um,yes. And, no. It’s a bit hard to explain. I hadn’t noticed the little cabin before. But it wasn’t totally 100% hidden away from everything else. But it was almost hidden because of the spruce trees which surrounded it.

  3. Lucienne says:


    The pictures are beautiful and your words resonated deeply and made me think of a poem I rested with for a while today.

    P’u-t’o Temple

    A temple, hidden, treasured
    in the mountain’s cleft
    Pines, bamboo
    such a subtle flavor:
    The ancient Buddha sits there, wordless
    The welling source speaks for him

    It’s from the Poetry Chaikhana site, whos messages I receive daily. A real gem site:

    • Kathy says:

      Lucienne, this poem moved me deeply with its simplicity. What a lovely site. I wonder how many hidden things we miss, simply because we don’t slow down to see them?

  4. Jane says:

    You have come upon “my house of belonging” today with this post and your words have reassured me that where the hearth of home is, there will the fire burn… my own little cabin in the woods… that place where only I dwell. It’s a fine place………. Thank you Kathy

  5. Cindy Lou says:

    Simply wondermous…once again, your words and photos have taken me on a journey.

  6. Susan D says:

    simply …. YES!

  7. Gerry says:

    Um, I can’t help but observe that your hidden cabin was there all along, in (not-quite) plain view. But isn’t that often the way? A shift in perspective is all it takes.

    • Kathy says:

      Gerry, you are so astute! You have described it quite accurately. All of our hidden cabins are there all along, aren’t they? Waiting for our shift…

Thank you for reading. May you be blessed in your life...may you find joy in the simple things...

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