DD 101

We lived in a boy’s dormitory up the hill from the lodge.  Along the hillside a road led from the laundry, past the dormitory, and then ended  like the road had had somewhere in mind but then changed its mind.

The lodge, laundry, and dormitory were encircled by and were interspersed with pine trees, but at the end of the road the pine trees tired out and and tall grass covered the hillside as if the forces shaping the park had temporarily exhausted themselves by creating so many lakes and canyons and pine-tree forests and decided that on this one hillside there would just be long grass where elk could graze without wondering why their horns had to be quite so long.

Along the road, four cabins had been built and had once housed tourists; but the cabins were now too rustic without bathrooms and sinks to compete with the hotel; and when Bill and I asked if we could move from the dormitory to the furtherst cabin–the one at the end of the road, the manager of Lake Lodge couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“You’ll have to clean it up, ” he said, “and requisition a couple mattresses from supply, but if you want to be isolated out there on the edge of the woods go ahead.”

And that’s what we did.  We swept the cabin clear of spiders and dust, picked up two mattresses, and moved into the best of all locations, a place between places, at the transition from woods to prairie, in an island of isolation at the edge of bustle.

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