A Cabin, a Fire, and the Grace of Kindred Spirits, Tucked Away in the Colorado Mountains

You will hear me say this again and again, how precious and meaningful the beautiful connections I make through my travels across the U.S. and Canada are to me.

Some of you have been following my journey from the very beginning and might remember a name or a place here and there, but I believe a soft reminder is always a good idea.

So let’s go back to December 2022, Boulder, Colorado.

I receive a message through Messenger from a woman named Diane, who follows my journey and wants to meet for coffee. I respond with a phone call, as I always do, to make sure the person on the other end is truly who they say they are.

Right away, I am so impressed with Diane and her life story. Every time I meet someone older than me who still goes camping; especially car camping, it’s a quiet reminder and inspiration that I can keep doing this for as long as it feeds my soul.

Diane and I keep in touch here and there. Last March, when she saw that I was visiting my son, she reached out and invited me to spend time at her little cabin in the woods.

That cabin steals my heart. What Diane creates in the middle of nowhere feels like simple magic to me.

My screensaver on my phone rotates several photos that hold deep meaning in my heart. Diane's cabin is one of them. It's there to remind me of my own dream: to live one day in a small cabin in the middle of the woods.

Last week we met again. While making plans, Diane offers me two options. She says, “We can sit and relax, or I have a little project I’d love some help with.”

Since I am not exactly an expert at relaxing :) and since I want to understand what it really takes to live and care for a place like hers, I jumped at the chance to help.

In order to protect the property from fire, the ground needs to be cleared of any debris that could help a fire spread. Diane has already made a big pile, and now it’s time to burn it carefully and responsibly.

I find deep satisfaction in physical labor—there’s something about working with the land that feels grounding and real. We find a lovely rhythm between catching up on life and tending the fire.

It is a hot day. On top of the sun's heat, the fire adds an extra layer of intensity. But there’s a simple solution: stepping into the cold and refreshing water of the creek at the bottom of the hill, just a few feet away. I don’t even bother taking off my sandals or rolling up my pants. I just empty my pockets and step in.

Later in the afternoon, heavy clouds roll in, and a short thunderstorm gives us a welcome break. The rain is a gift, but not enough to fully extinguish the fire. A short drive to the nearby lake to fill two big jugs of water becomes our next task. With two buckets of dirt and those water jugs, we feel confident that the fire is completely out.

What a magical day!

By the time I return to my little cabin at the Y, I am totally spent. After a well-deserved shower, I can feel every muscle in my body, but in the best way. By 7:30 p.m., I am in bed with a satisfied smile and another beautiful shared memory with Diane.

I am so excited that Diane is planning to come play at the glass fusion studio next week. I cannot wait to share this new creative world with her.