Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

I rub my sleepy eyes and clean the last dishes. My week at the cabin is over, and I slowly pack the car. I'll be back in a few days when I will have to say bye for another year. The river is low again, but the grass is green, and the day is cool. More rain is in the forecast. I take a deep breath, lock the door, and move on.

While tidying up the cabin by washing the dishes and sweeping the floors before everyone leaves, I reflect on another year. We are all getting older and tamer. There are fewer altercations and more hugs along with earlier bedtimes and more snoring. We awake earlier each year, and people leave sooner on Sunday.

Early Morning coffee in the kitchen. Jim is making eggs.  I hear a clutch of conversation when I wake up. Peter, Donny, Josh, Matt, Joe. I let the discussions hang. I get up to take my morning walk, skirting other hungover zombies.

The creek is high, appearing more like a pond each year. Past it there is a dark patch of woods. Birch and Spruce mingle with Slender Ash. Big Rock looks inviting amidst stalwart pines. 

The cold rain is threatening to put out the fire. Fortunately, the weather won't stop us from breathing. When the sun comes out, I'm going in the river.

The river runs through here, doncha know. I can't hear it over the sound of the space heater. This summer is a cold one. 

Cabin Day One: Ask the Turtle Walking through Yarrow and daisies in the ditch as cars fly by I  spy a dead Snapping Turtle next to an anthill And a Subway cup tossed carelessly from a passing car. The ferns are tall and verdant next to scarred popple trees,  the sky blue with scattered, wispy cirrus clouds,  and the air fragrant. Wisconsin summer, colder than some yet still beautiful.  I raise you your harsh, snowy winters  and ask for more temperance. Ask the turtle who hides under ice and hollow log what she wants.  More summer or a buttercup. Something to eat and the sun on her shell. Give me more days like this one, content in my carapace,  walking through green, even as I shield myself  from speeding cars on County Road W that never slow down.