When a place is more than a structure, it gets in your bones
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| My cottage attire met the standards of need paired with availability; style was optional -- and unique. |
I wish I weren’t writing this letter, but the time has come. The choice is made, the deal done, the door closed. For good. For real. For us. For a new family, that same door is now wide open, and I bid them welcome and wish them the same times we had there.
Years of hard work and good fun (often one and the same), of peace and quiet (except when it was noisy with people and power tools and vehicles), of that spectacular view (no matter the season or the weather, that view held our gaze and our heart), and of sighting the local wildlife (deer, bears, coyotes, foxes, otters, martens, birds, dragonflies, butterflies…).
Looking back, every moment was worth it. Because, of course, memory fades of those moments when the cat caught a mouse behind the sofa (eek!); of when the toilet got plugged (argh!); of when the cottage was so cold when I arrived one early December day that the water jugs were frozen and my old cell phone wouldn’t hold a charge (sheesh!).
Looking back, every moment was, indeed, worth it.
Having a cottage changed the rhythm of our life and the nature of our travel. First Cormorant Cove, then Clifftop — the cottage was the anchor that kept us in Manitoba, travelling the same highway, the same route for 25 years. Much changed over those years, but the feeling of delight we had on arrival never did: appreciation for the spot; gratitude for the place; and enjoyment of the pace.
Making hard choices is what adult life is about and selling the cottage was one of the hardest we’ve made. Which doesn’t change the fact that it is the right decision to have made. It just means that we are grieving the loss of, not the structure we have sold, but the magic and the meaning of the times we had because of the spot on which it stands.
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| The gazebo at Clifftop Cottage -- named for the cliff on which it stands. |
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| Our first cottage got its name from the cormorant swimming in the cove at our lakeshore. This cottage had no well, but we still loved being there in the winter. |
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| Cormorant Cove: our first cottage, up from the lakeshore but not on a cliff |
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| No well at Cormorant Cove meant drawing water from the lake for basic needs and, because the wetsuit left by the previous owners fit me, I was the designated person to put in the foot valve in the spring and take it out again in the fall. Always cold, always a big palaver, and always worth it. |
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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.
In my mind I imagine Clifftop Cottage, a mental picture of calm and beauty and friends and food and fun. Now that time for you is past, and you are ready to forge ahead to the next life adventure.
ReplyDeleteWhat will it be I wonder?
Much love, Ann
Cormorant Cove and Clifftop became a part of my life as well. I came to appreciate both properties. (Amanda has been my trusted editor since 2004). Amanda would tell me when they were headed to the cottage. If I had work for you I knew that I better get my butt in gear and get it to you way before a deadline. The cottages (technology) cared little about my deadlines. They were content knowing that Amanda and Val's pace had slowed considerably when entering their doors. The cottages had jobs. They loved keeping them warm and toasty therefore, a fire had to be lit. There were mouse traps to be checked and comfort supplies to be unpacked. The cottages protected their serenity. The cottages set Amanda's pace and mine. I developed a greater capacity for patience knowing I would get my work back (I always did). I too was on cottage time.
ReplyDeleteThat's a beautiful view, your mother loved the cottage and that gazebo, she so enjoyed her time there with you and Val. Oh the memories you have made there.
ReplyDeleteSo bittersweet. A space for loving memories to be carried to a new place.
ReplyDeleteI know we have to make these adult decisions; nevertheless, I feel sad for you. A summer cottage is more than a vacation spot. It is an eternal memory of summers ever eternal, the embodiment of the simple, perfect pleasure.
ReplyDeleteAdulting is hard but considering the alternatives -- the right path to follow. Saying good bye to one place opens, as you suggested a multitude of places to visit. When the snow reaches the lintels in Manitoba, come see me.
ReplyDeleteIt looks positively lovely, but as life brings new challenges, something to be given up. Sad. However the memories made there will last forever. I remember well Anne’s appreciation of her times at Clifftop Cottage when she and Colin would spend a few days in the summer there.
ReplyDeleteI’m sure it was a very difficult parting.