The first sighting reminds one of a simple farmhouse. But on closer inspection, one sees the Adirondack-style, rough-cut red oak planked walls. One sees the crooked pine log pillars supporting close to 1,500 square feet of covered porches, decks and screened porches. There's an outdoor shower tucked into an exterior staircase, open to the skies, and a Finnish-style wood-burning sauna out among the trees.

The interior is simple. The main floor is one large room with high ceilings supported by sturdy beams. There's a Swedish black stove for heat and ceiling fans on every level. Sunlight filters through the green of oak and maple leaves that nestle around our place — like one big treehouse. An open staircase (connecting three levels) is made from branches, posts, twigs and wood slabs for the steps. Oak floors stretch between the walls and ceiling of rough pine. There's not a stitch of plasterboard in the whole place.

When my partner and I were in our mid-50s we didn't think we would ever buy a cabin. Our tent camping days led to a short stint with a pop-up trailer, which then led to renting cabins in beautiful and remote spots. But we were always the visitors. We were never home. So we bought our place with plenty of acreage on a breathtaking little lake surrounded by steep hills this side of Hayward, Wis. And surrounded by 1,700 acres of county forest. We're on a private wilderness lake, meaning no motorized or public access. Quiet. Intimate. Now we can't imagine not being there every weekend and holiday.

This cabin changed our life. It became our core, our new collective heartbeat. Its solitude provides peace of mind while allowing our souls to escape our oftentimes crazy urban patterns. Owning two homes became tedious, so the urban one had to go. Apartment living became the new complement to having a home in the woods. This cabin changed our connections to friends, our frequency of attending urban events, the type of vehicles we drive and the kind of clothes we wear. Even our city cats moved up and are now far-healthier barn cats at the local horse stable. Retirement musings now center on how we and the cabin will age together. Will she be kind to us? How will she finally beat us down?

Like so many cabin owners, our musings about cabin life sound so cliché. But the power of a cliché is that it's actually true, amazingly true, reminding us yet again of the healing power of nature and wilderness. And tucked away in it all is our cabin.

CURT PETERSON, MINNETONKA