Just Above Sunset Archives
The Treehouse by Phillip Raines
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Just Above Sunset Archives The Treehouse by Phillip Raines
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
||||
|
|||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
The Treehouse
By Phillip Raines Note: To see a full-size high-resolution version of a particular
photograph click on the photograph.
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
I have a treehouse in north Florida.
It sits on the steep banks of the Sopchoppy River (Sopchoppy means
crooked river in the native American language, Creek). It rests aloft on three trees and one post about twenty feet
off the ground. Below the treehouse there is a brick paved open-air kitchen with a camp stove and a picnic table.
From the kitchen there are stairs leading down the bank to a dock and the river where I swim. The water there is silky
and the color of strong tea, making submerged skin look a rosy amber. The water, though tinted with tannin from the
forest, isn't murky with sediment. In fact this river has a sandy bottom and limestone banks filed with fossils and
deeply shaded with overhanging trees with Spanish moss. I built the treehouse five years ago. First a platform
tied into the trees with thick bolts and steel braces, then the walls sent a stick at a time, assembled, sided and stood up,
and then the roof. The windows and door I rescued from a dumpster are a century old. The cypress siding was cut
and milled a mile from the site and has already turned silver gray. I stare at the river from above and think and read
and draw and write. The branches and leaves are calming at eye level and when they sway, so do I.
This is a river that flows both ways, to and from the coast, changing
with the tides. At one point of the day it actually has lanes with fallen leaves going up river on one side and down
river on the other like slow traffic on a quiet street. The water is soft from the tannin, limestone and springs and
after a swim your hair feels conditioned, shiny and soft. Some of the springs are above the river in the limestone ledges,
and can be heard pouring into the dark water. There the water is clear and clean.
Down river I have rigged a rope swing where the family (but mostly
the boys) climb the steep bank on a set of scrap stairs and swing off and over the water, letting go with trapeze timing to
splash in the cool river. Recently some local boys nailed wood to the tree for a jumping platform. One daring
kid did a back flip off a high branch, dazzling all the other boys. Here it is Tarzan Camp.
My son Luke (with the long hair) and a friend contemplate taking another swim. The dock is
held to the bank with pointed wooden posts driven deep into the mat of roots and sand. There are times that the river
is twenty feet higher than the water is in this picture and the dock is tormented by a swift deep current. It is built
so that it is locked around the deeply rooted trees. Some nights I bathe by candlelight at the foot of the ladder.
There is a deep channel about five feet from the diving stairs but at the ladder's foot there is a limestone shelf that is
flat and smooth. In dry summers I have done soundings from a canoe of the river bottom with a knotted rope and weight
and I am fairly familiar with the shape of the river bottom. Before we go off the rope swing we'll test the waters -
I will swim to the bottom and feel around with my feet. About eight feet deep the sun disappears and it is completely
dark under water. Sinking feet first, looking up, watching the sun get red, then darker, and finally not there, is thrilling.
I look for trees that may have floated down during a flood, any hazard that could have drifted in the swimming hole. Once
we announce all clear, we hit the river. Muggy sweat turns into goose bumps in
the cool water.
When we built the dock we gathered limestone fragments and stones off the shelf below the
river bank; one looks like the skull of a stegosaurus. For that stone, which weighs maybe 150 pounds, we rigged a rope
and pulley on leaning tree and hoisted it using a sling. I use the stones we gathered to weigh the dock down so it doesn't
float in flood.
At the top of the hill (but eye level with the
treehouse) I built a brick privy with an adjacent hot shower. The privy is resplendent with clear roof and flushing
toilet. It was built in the hottest part of the summer, temperatures well above one hundred with jungle humidity near
100%. I designed it to be much bigger at first, but then the cost was too much. The shower would have to be outside.
I just recently poured the slab and put up the tin and wood partition. I love an outdoor shower. The arched openings, recessed panels and corbelled brickwork remind me of pump stations built in the WPA
programs.
We took five boys on this trip. The three youngest slept in
the tent by the campfire where we cook.
The stump beside the tent was a cherry tree damaged by a tornado. I had the 20-foot trunk cut down and milled into planks. I used the cherry wood to build a window seat and as trim inside the treehouse.
 Inside the treehouse I sit on the sofa and write and stare at the river. The dangling
ropes lead to pulleys on the ceiling and when the windows are all open the ropes look like a cat's cradle and the top hinged
windows reflect the river below. When the wind blows the treehouse moves like a boat on the water.
 A view up river from the dock and the destination of
most of my swims. There is a sand bar where I can stand waist deep and take a breather before I float back downstream.
When the river is still, before the tide changes its direction, it's hard to tell the reflection from the trees. At
night the stars are vivid in the water.
The treehouse in flood as seen from the brick privy. The dark water reflects the blue sky
brilliantly. I have to tie down the table and trashcans, anything in the flood's way. The river will be back down
below the dock in just a few days after a flood. The headwaters of the river are the swamp and springs in the national
forest and it's cleaner than most rivers. I have yet to stay in the treehouse when the river floods. Tie a john
boat to the stairs, listen to the river recede. At night the frogs and crickets are deafening crying out to each other,
but no sirens, trains or jets. Peaceful, primal.
A cherrywood ladder leads to the sleeping loft with an aromatic
cedar ceiling. When I look from my bed down to the river it is a height of nearly fifty feet. I sleep long
and deep here, a place to catch up on my rest.
A hundred-year-old
heart-pine door, a cherry counter from the tree I cut down, a tiny fridge and coffee pot make it almost like home, only much
cozier. One day I'll have a sink there and outlets along the room instead of extension cords. The treehouse is small though, only 12x12, but with so many windows it feels almost as big as the view
through the treetops.
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
_____ Copyright © 2003 - Phillip Raines
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
