Back To Nature

 The stump was from an aspen tree that had been gnawed down by the beavers that were creekside residents before we moved into our mountain cabin. The significance of this stump was that it served as a marker for my brothers and I when we would go out the back door, up the path, to brush our teeth. 

We carried our toothbrushes in one hand, already dosed with Crest, and a Dixie cup with water in the other. We could begin brushing as soon as we left the porch, but we were not allowed to spit until after we had passed that stump. Consequently, that bit of vertical reminder bore a bluish gray patina from our nightly sojourns into the darkness. The light from inside, provided by a pair of hardworking Coleman lanterns was just strong enough to make it easy even on moonless nights to find our way back. No flashlight was needed. 

There was no plumbing at our cabin. And no electricity. The woods were our bathroom. The radius from the back porch for this kind of activity was a bit further out than the beaver stump. My mother was also somewhat insistent that we take a few steps off the beaten path before we let fly. For these excursions we would often take a flashlight. There was plenty of brotherly teasing about how bears were attracted to certain smells, and it was always a good idea to be ready to flee in the moments before the mauling. 

None of us were ever mauled. The bears that may at one time roamed the hills by our cabin left before the beavers, and even they couldn't be found after we started stomping around the forest full time each summer. But this was the kind of thing that gave us the feeling of living in the Little House On The Prairie. Except we were in the mountains. And there were three boys, not three girls, and I don't remember any of the Ingalls ever needing to go to bathroom. Or brush their teeth. 

We did. And we always found our way back. No one was ever left behind. And if you're asking if we ever cheated a little on that distance from the back door? Well, let's just say that nobody can prove a thing. 

Except maybe the bears.