We bought an old cabin in Vermont last fall, with family, and have been spending long weekends there every so often. Catching the mice. Swimming in the waterfall. Visiting the markets and junk shops nearby. Making pot roasts and pies. Working on huge drawings together of tree houses and rivers and rabbits and bonfires. Collecting rocks, strolling after dinner, watching red salamanders. Tim built a picnic table. There's lots of old stuff around in the cabin still, from the 50's, and those are the echoes I hear, the children who grew up going there, the splashing in the creek.