My family owns a small cabin in a picturesque country town.
The cabin sits on the side of a river and is covered by overhanging pine trees that create constant shadow over the house despite the intense heat of the climate.
It is an incredible place that makes you believe in magic. When people write about the little magical cottages that are surrounded by fairies and the home to many magical creatures – they’re writing about this cottage. I wish I could take everyone I know there, because it’s the type of place you have to see to believe. Unfortunately it’s too small to have more than three people in it at once. Maybe one day someone who’s actually magic will stumble across it and make it bigger inside than it was intended.
I used to come here as a child with my parents. I’m an only child and spent years entertaining myself at our little cabin by the river. I often wished that I had a sibling, but I made do and look back on my childhood very fondly. I wonder if this place seems magic to me because I spent so many years inside my imagination here. I made friends with the fairies that live in the river. I spent time helping the elves that lived under the rocks get back to their home in the North Pole. The place was magic and everything about it always will be.
This sounds strange, but one of the most magical parts of the cabin is it’s windows. My parents got a double hung window installation as soon as we bought the cabin, just to add a tiny bit more character to an already beautiful timber home. One year my Dad and I broke a window when we were helping a leprechaun find a pot of gold. The leprechaun was supposed to slip out easily, but instead he used his little black pot to smash the glass on his way out. The next day, Dad called for a timber window replacement around Melbourne. It would’ve been a lot easier if the cabin was closer to the city, but it was still fixed. We never played inside again.
Magic was everywhere at this cabin.