Four weeks ago a far-away virus had only cheated us of our spring break plan to return to Thailand. Suddenly it was at our back door and the whole world reeled. As we rushed to cancel a back-up trip, we booked a remote cabin with barely a glance at the website. White Pine Camp in the Adirondacks was the “summer White House” of Calvin Coolidge in 1926. It was our retreat as families huddled, hospitals braced and the stock market swooned.
Mercifully our little cabin had no wifi access. As the only guests staying there, we’d drive a mile up a dirt road to the “great room” where we sipped tea by the fire, the girls learned how to Zoom with friends, Dave tracked case statistics and I read every devastating article against my better judgement. The contrast between our vintage setting and the breaking news made it hard at times to breath…an alarming symptom.
Each day that week was lazy…filled with cozy fires, board games, reading, hikes or a little snowshoeing. None of it especially “fun” – all of it achingly beautiful.
As our car pulled away, White Pine Camp closed its doors behind us for the first time in 113 years. I hope I wasn’t the last person to sign the guest book. Perhaps one day a guest will read my message and wonder what it must of been like to live and to love in the time of corona.