A Bed Under the Open Sky

My husband and I visited family in the Johnstown area on Friday. We had a fine meal later that afternoon at Off the Rak in Ebensburg. I had a steak salad and lobster bisque and it all "hit the spot," as they say. It was too much food, so I even had a little steak left over to make steak nachos later. Cool.

Before our visit, though, my husband stopped at a little woodsy wetland he knew as a child. The parking lot was a sheet of death. Which is to say ice, and melting ice in particular, deadly slippery. The trail was a combination of mud, ice, and a small amount of melting snow. I was glad I had my winter boots on, with good tread; I needed every bit of it.

We happened upon a small, rustic cabin along a meandering stream; which is to say, it was a real fixer-upper. The roof was leaking, the chimney was leaning, there were holes in the siding, and the outhouse was in the worst shape of any I've ever seen: an apocalyptic post-baked-beans blowout, perhaps. There's a back story, I'm sure, that I may not want to know.

Best of all (to me, at least), there was a rusty bed frame along the side of the cabin, and I found it strangely appealing. I imagined why it might be there. To sleep out under the open sky? What a fine idea.

I think if you do, you'll need to bring your own mattress, bed slats, bed springs, sheets, blankets, pillows, and pillow cases. But the lack of all amenities aside, I imagine the view from there just could be quite nice. Yep, a little chilly, but a mighty fine view out under the open sky . . .

The soundtrack: Passenger, Staring at the Stars (acoustic version).