My dad and I drove up to the cabin in Canada to fix the pipes last week. It’s only a nine hour drive to the village of Rossport and despite being at the cabin for 24! whole! hours!, I only took eight photos. Like, seriously. Eight photos. I was busy. And sometimes sleeping. Also, wandering.

After visiting with the local innkeeper for a bit, we got to work.

Technically, he got to work. I wandered around and mostly forgot to take photos. There are lots of trees.

There are also islands. And a lake. (That’s the cabin down there, in the middle of the photo.)

And lots of rock outcroppings.

And, of course, a sad and neglected garden that hasn’t even begun to grow yet because Rossport seems to be about five weeks behind Minneapolis on that whole “spring” thing.

Not pictured: the bay, the railroad tracks, the inside of the big cabin (duh, what was I thinking about while I was up there? not making photographs, obviously) which includes a spiral staircase, an old dentist chair, a cute little fireplace, and, like, a kitchen and a bathroom and other stuff like that. Also, the inside of the small cabin, which includes another fireplace, a ginormous old safe, and lots and lots of sleeping room. Hmmm, what else? Oh! The fire pit! and the fishpond! and the apple tree!