Michigan Forest Life - April 2, 2026

Good morning friends,

It is 3:00 am. The forest glows with an eerie illumination from a large moon muted by a thin sheet of translucent clouds. Tree branches shake and rattle in an aggressive wind. I step outside onto the Treehouse porch. I am surprised to find the wind blowing in my face. A wind from the east. It is unusual. What does Mother Nature have in mind for today? 

In the moonlight the thermometer reads 27° F. I carry in an armful of firewood and restore the fire in the woodstove. Two long pieces of split oak. They barely fit in the woodstove. The log I cut was too long. I wiggle them an inch further into the stove. They knock against the back, but the woodstove door closes. Perfect.

Two oil lamps illuminate the Treehouse interior (Photo 1). Their soft glow reflects off the Treehouse's knotty pine ceiling. I am charmed by shadows the lamps project - antlers, beams, the stove pipe (Photo 2). And charmed by the cuckoo clock's cadence as it measure out the structure's heartbeat from the corner of the room. Life is good in the Treehouse. In the forest.

I am here for only three nights. An escape from activities surrounding the launch of FOREST LEGEND: THE TALE OF OL' SPLIT TOE.

The book is now live - officially launched on Tuesday with an event at Karl's Cabin, in Plymouth, Michigan (Photo 3 and 4). I know that this is situation of my own making. A fuse I lit. But, I long for more forest time. Peace of the forest. Forest Zen. Forest simplicity: the off-grid lifestyle of participation that is closer to hands-on survival. I am here for a three-night taste - and grateful for that. It will have to do.

There are two large trees that need to be managed - blocking both trails to the Bunkee (Photo 5 and 6) - chain saw work. One oak that will become future firewood. One pine that will decay on the forest floor, off the trail, become home to thousands of small organisms, and then eventually contribute to the fertile forest soil.

There are about 20 gallons of maple sap ready to boil down to pure Treehouse maple syrup. Liquid gold. Friday's project. Forest work. Life is good.

I wish you a brief escape from civilization, a warm fire and a plate of homemade pancakes smothered in pure maple syrup.

Until next time, 

Dan