The Log Cabin Poem by Nick krakana

A cabin in northern Quebec, I dedicate this poem to my son for whom without our evening talks and his young curiosity, i would have let this wonderful memory lay dormant, the cabin was located on the road to Manawalki Quebec a very good friend and great outdoorsman - Roger who lived in Temiskaming Quebec, had with his sons built a cabin beneath towering virgin timber that dwarfed its presences, any further description would fit a goodnight children's book, located on a lake about 8 miles though the bush, accessible only on an ATV.

The trout we caught were the heavens choice for a bush breakfast, cooked up on a wood stove with bacon and a brew of strong tea. Over which Roger (a retired QPP)told me of how he and his boys built the cabin complete with a front porch feeling as natural as the heat flowing from the wood stove.

After breakfast, I began to nod off to sleep at the table like Rip Van Winkle. Seeing this Roger rolled up a jacket and tossed it on the top bunk saying, "sleep up there, its warm now, I go check things around the lake, catch trout for you to take home".

It was the best sleep, a bush sleep in the woods so deep for those of use who are aware of this reward.

This fine memory happened 37 years ago and I still catch a glimpse of this bush rest whenever I recall that day.

Nick Krakana
Copyright 2013
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