Whispering Pines Redux

Both of you who read this blog on a regular basis will recall my ode to Whispering Pines, a place Em and I went to this spring. It was on the market outside the little town of Kalkaska, itself about 25 minutes from the resort town of Traverse City in Michigan's northwest lower peninsula. It is just a little log cabin on 10 acres of tall, swaying pines and gently rolling sandy hills. Emily christened it Whispering Pines because it was breezy the day we went and looked at it.

We stood in the clearing that emerged to the right of the gently ascending two-track that ran along the property line, listening to the trees sway in the wind and occasionally crack together at the top. It was not ominous in any way. It was peaceful. I could have stayed all day, the dappled sun falling gently on my face as I watched the tall pines sway in the wind, (All apologies to Don Henley for the phrase grab).

Though the price was reasonable and in my estimation would only go up, we simply couldn't have purchased it. We both briefly bought into the dream of having a quiet place out of town. It seemed to come up every time our next door neighbors had people over, (pretty much every night in the summer, it seemed), and the smell of their cigarettes would waft into our house, situated essentially on top of theirs. We do live in the city after all. That's the price you pay.

Later in the summer I had a couple opportunities to camp, first in West Virginia and then in Pentwater, MI. These were enough to help me remember how much I love being outdoors. Reminded how in nature, surrounded by peace and quiet I am alone, but not lonely. Whispering Pines became a goal for me. Something to be reached for.

I checked on my Zillow app daily to see if anyone bit. The price went down a time or two, but there was no change to the disposition of the place. Until Sunday. That's when it changed from "For Sale" to "Pending".

Pending. The word stabbed at my eye and stung me in my chest. My stomach lurched and my mouth went dry. Someone with the money to do so bought Whispering Pines. And they probably didn't even know the name of the place was Whispering Pines. They'll probably call it something stupid and hackneyed like "The Stumble Inn" or, "The Last Resort" or even more ubiquitously, "The Cabin". Or worse, the new owner won't name it at all!

I don't know if you know this about me, but I name everything. If I don't have a name for an object it means I truly don't care for it. I name cars, houses, things... each one of my cats has at least a dozen pet names on top of their given names and that's because one name can't contain the love I have for the stupid critters.

And so would be the same with Whispering Pines if I were able to make it mine. A home is a major purchase. It is no small decision to buy a place... especially if you already have a place and the second place is essentially a nod to superfluity. And if you don't love something enough to name it, why spend money on it?

We just worked on the 2013 family budget and it's gonna be a lot of years before I can ever have a place out in the woods. Priorities have to take... well, priority over things not needed. These are austere times for society and indeed for us.

I don't know the new owner or owners. I hope they love the place and it is everything they want it to be.In my opinion, they got a fetching place for  a great price. The land is truly blessed with natural beauty and I hope the new person or family is blessed with good health and good times there.

And for God's sake, I hope they give it a name. I humbly suggest Whispering Pines. You can have it, free and clear.