A House in the Woods Is Special

"House in the Woods Getting New Roof" ©Mary Montague Sikes

Years ago, when my husband and I were newlyweds, we picked out land for our first house. After exploring many locations in our little town, we decided on some heavily-wooded property that included more than we needed. It was beautiful, remote, and lacked a street to it. At the time, we thought we would live in this house for a few years, then move elsewhere.

My father-in-law took great interest in the building of this house. My husband drew the plans. It was special.

As the construction was underway, we decided to lift the roof higher, so that second-floor rooms might be completed at a later date. The house featured a heat-pump and was the first total electric home in our community. It was special.

The house was built on a site that left as many of the natural dogwood and other trees as possible. Every window in the house provided a picturesque view of the surrounding wooded landscape. The edge of the woods on our land overlooked a creek coming off a river that the first English colonists explored long ago. This house was special.

Three children lived and grew up in this house. They played among the trees, watched the fruit trees we planted in the orchard grow tall. They saw the small magnolia turned into a giant tree overlooking the far corner of the property. This land was special.

A street I never wanted was built. We sold the property on the other side of the street for two houses to be built. We eventually built a studio for my painting, complete with skylights. This house was more special than I ever dreamed it would be. How could we leave it? It was part of the family.

As I write this post, I look out over the woods beyond my writing studio window. The trees are barren this time of

"Winter Trees at Sunset" ©Mary Montague Sikes

year, but they still intrigue me. I have photographed and painted them through many seasons of the year. I will paint them again. I wonder what images they have seen over the years.

Hurricane Isabel ripped some of the largest trees in our woods from the ground. As the waters of the Mattaponi River overwhelmed the creek, the winds destroyed our orchard. We didn't replace the fruit trees. Now, a grassy knoll with green grass stretches where the trees once stood.

We love our house in the woods. Entering my painting studio or the writing studio brings me a feeling of joy. Our first house grew into our forever home. It would be difficult to leave this special place and all the memories that lie hidden inside these walls.

As seasons pass and leave their mark, trees are beautiful any time of year. A house rising among their branches is always special.

Do We Own the Land? Fire, Earthquake, and Hurricane

This has been quite a week in Virginia. I returned home with plans for doing a lot of write in between attending teacher workshops and meetings. We were met with a smoky haze and the news from a nearby neighbor that the previous week one day she couldn't see our house from her window because of the smoke. That smoke is coming from an uncontrolled fire in the Great Dismal Swamp located in southeastern Virginia. If the wind shifts in the right direction, we get the smoke. The smoke is not pleasant.

Then, earlier this week, as I stood in my art studio, some gigantic animal raced back and forth across our roof. I stared at the skylights, certain they would shatter at any moment. My husband was in another upstairs room and thought a large helicopter was landing on the roof. He also watched trees and the building sway during the commotion. All the while, in my studio, the angel wind chimes played a magical tune. Of course, since they hang against the indoor wall as decoration, I had never before heard them play. It all turned out to be a 5.8 earthquake. The only earthquake I'd felt before was a small shaking in California a few years ago. The skylights didn't break, but I had a funny, unsettling feeling for the remainder of the day.

"Remnants of a Storm"

Now, here comes Hurricane Irene, and we are right in its path. In 2003, Isabel dealt our community a terrible blow as hurricane winds blew directly up our three rivers at high tide. Many people living on the point of the peninsula where our town is located lost their homes or suffered severe damage to them. Our house is on higher ground, but I recall looking out the window at the height of the storm to see the Mattaponi River and West Point Creek united into one vast body of raging water. We lost many trees during that storm, including a tall oak and most of the fruit trees nurtured in our orchard. One tree, located close to our house, blew down but fell away in the opposite direction blocking a street.

What is going on? I wonder. Do we really own the land? Nature has control; we do not. Sometimes we need to remember that. Sometimes like now.


Just joined the Campaigner Challenge. Paying forward. I like the concept.

East Coast Stormy Waters and Hurricanes

"Stormy Seas" by MM Sikes, Woman's Care, Williamsburg, VA

September is the time of year when hurricanes tend to disrupt the lives of those living on the East Coast. Thankfully, Hurricane Earl gave Virginia only a glancing blow today. It also brought our small Tidewater community some much-needed rain and no wind.

Still, some folks I take aerobics classes with were worried about the flooding high tides might bring to low-lying areas of the Gloucester/Mathews Middle-Peninsula. And with wind, there's always the concern about power outages--an especially traumatic situation for writers. Even those with generators don't want to chance using their computers.

On September 18, 2003, Hurricane Isabel struck a devastating blow to our little community. The winds swept up the York River and gave our town a direct hit. We lost most of the trees in our orchard and a giant oak tree in our woods. A tree next to our house fell away from it instead of on it. We were fortunate. People living on the York lost homes or had homes that were badly flooded. One property owner watched her piano float up the river. We were without power for days; some people living in our county went weeks before their power was restored.

Earl and Isabel are examples of how we depend on nature being kind to us. A resident of the Outer Banks of North Carolina commented that she enjoys the beauty of her surroundings so much, she is willing to deal with the weather worries for a few days a year.

I enjoy my surroundings as well. I love looking out into the woods that form the view from my writing office. However, I'll never forget that night seven years ago when rain pounded our windows and trees crashed all around.