My Granddaughter's Point of View

I've shared with you words written by Margaretta K. Mitchell that were nailed up on the wall of cabin II, now I've been given the OK to post my granddaughter's writing!
Sorry Margaretta , but even though your words resonate with the deep peace I felt right on down to my bones, you've got to admit this piece of writing is supreme!

Steep Ravine Cabins on a Cliff
By Patience Hinson

I went to the Steep Ravine Cabins. They were as pretty as oak trees. My grandparents and I went to the cabins in a full packed car. I thought it was magical and I thought it was forever. I also loved the wood burning stove. It rained a lot. The rain sounded like hammers and saws. I enjoyed crocheting and weaving it felt like being curled up in the sun. I loved wading in the Steep Ravine Creek. The cabins feel magical.















Days before leaving on this vacation my granddaughter broke her glasses, so had to go without them, that didn't stop her from jotting down notes along the way.
You can guess that I must have done nothing but take pictures while staying at the Steep Ravine Cabins--that's about right!
You can also guess that I can't help but take pictures of my granddaughter--I'm smitten with her! She brightened up the cabin better than any LED flashlight or Colman lantern.

Similarities

Photo by Dorothea Lange

These are photos from the book, To a Cabin, by Dorothea Lange and Margaretta K. Mitchell along with some similar pictures I recently took at the Steep Ravine Cabins...


Photo by Margaretta K Mitchell

Photo by Margaretta K Mitchell ( This reminds me of my series of paintings of ropes or knots)

Photo by Dorothea Lange


Photo by Dorothea Lange (looks like they were there for the summer season--notice there was a sink inside back then!)


Photo by Margaretta K Mitchell


Photo of Dorothea Lange, photographer unknown

I'm not trying to compare myself to Dorothea Lange or Margaretta K Mitchell, well... maybe I am, but not as a photographer, no--I'm just noticing the similarities of the subject matter. I suppose any one with a camera while staying at the cabins would have many similar pictures-- that would make an interesting show!

Bubbles at Steep Ravine

Dorothea Lange, before she died, wanted to put together a book about living in one of these cabins at Steep Ravine. She wanted to express freedom and of living very simply and close to the elements.
I think she would have loved to see these bubbles sailing over the ravine--some going on and on till we couldn't see them any more...












With the lid of our kitchen box--(very important to have a lidded container for food and dishes--the mice came in each night!--we got very good at keeping things cleaned and put away before bedtime--but then the mice started to nibble on my granddaughter's doll!--I'll tell you about that later) so, with this precious lid, the bubbles were ever so gently wafted up high enough to make it over bushes, house tops and stovepipes--set free to sail over the cliff, over the ocean, where the breaking waves sent up a jet of air that jiggled and wiggled the bubbles and on they went, some to the beach below, others sailed so high that I'm sure motorists could see them riding by on Rt. 1


Some didn't make it very far at all.

After Dorothea Lange's death, Margaretta Mitchell , A photographer, writer and friend, saw to it that a book was made. With her own poetry and pictures from both she and Dorothea, Margaretta put together a peaceful little book that captures the essence of what it's like to live there in a cabin by the sea. The book, To a Cabin, is a combination of photographs and writings of both women. There are lovely black and white photos of the same cabins I've stayed in with my family. Even though the pictures are from the 60's and early 70's, much looks and feels the same!

Yellowed with age, nailed on the wall under a broken piece of Plexiglas, in cabin #2 are written these words by Margaretta K Mitchell:

Here is
A different state of being
where a morning cobweb becomes a fairy handkerchief
where I can lie against sand and stone
Face the rim of the globe
Feel waves wash over me
and crisp breezes refresh my skin
Listen to children's laughter like blowing bells
Watch dogs race the beach with numb joy
Know "freezing quiet" (Anne says)
Smell the spices of the season
(it is early spring now)

I awaken
by the ocean
in a cabin
gazing seaward

TO A CABIN II
Margaretta K. Mitchell