Playlist

9. "Eventually Silence" - Tuvaband

It's been a couple days since I left Denver. I can't help but wonder how Kyle is doing, but I knew better than to get his number - or even his last name. Sometimes things just happen, and sometimes people come into your life that aren't meant to stay. They are temporary, a breeze on a warm day. Kyle was a breeze on a warm day.

Aunt Lucy insisted that I stay with her while in the Portland area. She lives a bit west of Portland in a town called Tillamook. As I've gotten closer and closer to Aunt Lucy's, the more I'm engulfed by massive Douglas-firs. Moss decorates the bark while ferns and other vegetation litter the ground. Since it's early morning, fog lingers in the air, and clouds fill the sky, indicating rain for the day. Aunt Lucy moved from Portland when she bought an old cabin during an auction about eight months ago on the outskirts of Tillamook State Forest. She spent time renovating the cabin, and once it was done, she's been out there ever since.

I pass the sign on the main road that she had mentioned - a wooden, hand painted sign that says "TREAD CAREFULLY: FAIRIES AFOOT" - and take the next right as she had mentioned. The mailbox at the beginning of this road is made to resemble a mushroom. Aunt Lucy is definitely one of a kind. When I was little, she'd always tell me these elaborate fairy tales: fireflies were fairies; anything in a body of water after dark were mermaids. Nymphs moved flowers and trees, bugs worked alongside wildlife to help the whimsical creatures, and if I ever saw a unicorn, I was lucky. She would take the mundane and turn it into a whimsical, fantasy story. I was never bored with her as a child.

The road I turned down is paved for about a mile before the road dissipates into gravel. After another half-mile, the gravel fades, and all that is left is a beaten dirt road. I put my car into 4-wheel and continue. About 300 yards from when the gravel ends is Aunt Lucy's cabin. Smoke is filing out of the chimney, mixing with the fog. As I get closer to her cabin, I fall more and more in love with it. Moss is growing on the roof; ivy is starting to creep up the sides; ferns and little mushrooms decorate her yard. The cabin has a dark natural wood exterior. The foundation is made of stone, and it peeks out on the side since the cabin is on a small slope. Moss covers the stone of the foundation, too. I think what I like most about the cabin is that it doesn't intrude on the flow of nature. You can tell that the cabin is on nature's time and at nature's will, not the other way around.The cabin reminds me of a witch's hut or fairy-tale cottage: basked in the woods, sprouting from the ground as if it belongs there. My aunt may or may not be an actual witch. We'll see.

On the porch, there are two rocking chairs and a wooden table between them. The awning has one strand of hanging lights. There are hanging and potted plants on the porch, and the railing is natural wood. There's a circular window in the middle of the front-facing wall on the second story. A beautiful crescent moon wind chime hangs in the back corner of the porch. Aunt Lucy is sitting in the left rocking chair with Tucker, her 2 year old Bernese Mountain dog, at her side. I pull my car in next to hers, put Marlow on her leash and help Marlow out of the car. Aunt Lucy walks up to me, comes around and hugs me. "My God, you've gotten so big," she says quietly, hugging me tightly. I smile to myself and hug her in return. I haven't seen Aunt Lucy in nearly 3 years. She used to travel for work, and I think that's why she moved all the way out here - to just stop for a moment. Aunt Lucy has always given the types of hugs that make everything stop for a moment. Her hugs don't just say "Hello." Her hugs also say, "Have you eaten today? Have you been taking care of yourself? Did you wear your seatbelt on the way here? I'm genuinely happy to see you. I love you." She always smells of incense or essential oils and tobacco. I've never seen Aunt Lucy with a cigarette, but I've always seen her with an old tobacco pipe. I haven't always been sure it's tobacco she's smoking, but that's besides the point.

Marlow barks, not getting enough attention, and Tucker comes up to her. He sits in front of her, letting her sniff and jump on him. Aunt Lucy laughs and leans down, petting Marlow. "So this is the little angel you found. Your pictures don't do her justice." After Marlow finds a spot to pee, Aunt Lucy helps me into the cabin, carrying one of my bags for me. "So this is my humble abode," she says as she sets my bag down by her coffee table. The interior is just as quaint as the exterior: wood and exposed stonework, dream catchers, crystals and hanging plants. When you walk in, you're met with the living room directly in front of you, incense burning on the coffee table, and on the back wall behind the living room is the kitchen. There's a door to the backyard on the back wall, and I can see a chair and a table peeking around the corner. To your right is a beautiful stone fireplace, a small fire burning. A staircase curves around the fireplace, and down a small hallway past the staircase a bedroom.