Original DDE™ surrealistic art: “Tech Free” by: rob kistner © 3/26/24
True wilderness
is an integral part of my soul
first etched into my essence
by my adoptive father in 1951
I was four-years-old
I discovered this bliss
deep in the Canadian forests
two weeks every year
immersed in the beauty of Ontario
exploring remote lakes
traversing wild streams
fishing
hiking
camping
totally off the grid
no phones
no TV
no electricity
it was glorious
but for me
my xanadu
lay at the end
of a long exciting journey
on water
from Lehman’s Landing
the little provisions station
where we put in our boat
to begin the journey
they also sold gas
kerosene
block ice
food staples
and basic medical supplies
this was the last outpost
that could be reached by car
after 3 hours from Espanola
on primitive Ontario forest road
mostly sand an gravel
hard packed into the Canadian soil
by years of loggers and fisherman
the water journey involved portaging
and careful hand-poling
I loved the adventure of it
as did my dad
portaging a chain of pristine lakes
poling through boulder strewn narrows
to reach a beloved destination
the small private island
my father co-owned
with a wonderful Canadian family
the Disanti’s
rising on that island
was in my eyes
a magical chateau
an amazing wilderness cabin
hand-built of self-cut logs
the home and hearth
that will forever
hold a precious part
of my fragile heart
inside its pine log walls
stacked
notched
and pegged walls
a huge wood-burning stove
black iron and bold
with imposing strong legs
powerfully flexed and arched
lifting the mass in steady grip
it was the warm heart
of the love-filled cabin
it cooked the fish we caught
and small game dad hunted
in the wild forests
just across the crystal clear
glacier cold lake
stoked with kindling
and hand-split logs
collected in the forests
thick across the lake
big black also generously
offered the enveloping caress
and impeccable comfort of its warmth
a small hand-hewn log
and sawdust ice house
was nestled conveniently out back
hand-built to sustain perishable foods
it was fresh stocked each week
large ice blocks
retrieved in a 6-hour round trip
to and from Lehman’s Landing
two hand-built log & plank docks
one each side of our island
made access and egress effortless
for these provision runs
which included food and fuel
in addition to the block ice
the granite island itself
a bit under an acre in size
was covered in tufts of scrub grass
bracken fern
black rock and warrior moss
and wild ground-cluster blueberries
also, the remaining stand of white pine
mostly felled to build the cabin
and a small lawn of Kentucky bluegrass
imported to grace the front porch
pure glacial drinking/cooking water
came right out of the lake
waking up to meet the sunrise
found the cozy cabin
falling into a Canadian morning chill
the sound of lake loons
echoing across the water
through the morning mist
the smell of bacon
eggs and potatoes
beginning to permeate
the warming cabin
were intoxicating
these are treasured memories
memories of the place
that endure
that live
and will forever live
in my heart
as does the precious memory
of my beloved adoptive father
who introduced me
as a child
to this wild
beautiful
exhilarating
paradise
*
rob kistner © 2024
Poetry at: dVerse
What a wonderful gift your father gave you at such an early age. This is so full of great heartfelt memories, Rob. Well done.
He has been, and is my genuine hero.
As I wrote in my comment to Cris, I always fancied living in a log cabin, and the one in your picture looks so welcoming – you brought the wild life in the Canadian forests alive for me, and I would love to experience a log cabin even more! These lines make it even more desirable:
‘it was the warm heart
of the love-filled cabin’;
‘the granite island itself
a bit over an acre in size
was covered in tufts of scrub grass
bracken fern
black rock and warrior moss
and wild ground-cluster blueberries’
and
‘pure glacial drinking/cooking water
came right out of the lake’.
Wonderful memories, Rob!
Thank you Kim! I loved those two months each year. What a wonderful escape it was, and in an enthralling way!… 🙂
I found this extremely moving. You took me right into that special place of your chilhood.
‘the smell of bacon
eggs and potatoes
beginning to permeate
the warming cabin
were intoxicating’
I can smell those bacon and eggs!
Absolutely brilliant.
Thank you so much shirley… 🙂
It sounds like a beautiful place–and such wonderful memories you have of it!
A time of innocence and wonder — long gone… 😐
Amazing what we can remember when we were only four. Digging deep. This sounds like a beautiful place and makes me think of the little cabin on a lake where we spent summer vacations when we were kids. It was paradise but children nowadays would turn up their noses.
Yes — I love him fiercely, but my grandson would not understand why he’d be taken from his iPad and video games, and be forced to endure such, to him, would likely be considered an ordeal. Having gone twice every summer for 13 years Yvonne, this beloved memory became derpened, and continues to be, hard wired into my heart and soul. The only change back then, during those 13 years, was a small improvement of the road from Espanola, and modest upgrades in both Lehman’s Landing, and our island cabin. I learned a number of years ago, after my father passed away and sold his share in the island, that you can now travel reasonably decent roads, and put your boat in at a fancy little gas station, grocery store, and boat dock directly across the lake from, what once was, out primitive island. So sad… 🙁
This sounds like a paradise, I have spent some time in primitive cabins from time to time, and the experience how little you really need to call it luxurary…
For me the paradise was not just the remarkably cozy inside of the cabin, but also the glorious unspoiled nature that surrounded it.