Destruction.

A hunting-cabin from my childhood is slated for destruction, and I will not have a chance to visit it before it is gone.

It was ramshackle and behind a drive with a chain that you would open up, in a rural part of the state more than an hour from my childhood home, that my parents and their friends had bought when they were young and continued to use as they married and had kids, and we would stay there, sometimes, sometimes with my mom and sometimes without, depending on what was men's weekend and what would be for families, and at certain holidays like Fourth of July people would bring tents and set them up on the lawn or on this mown-grass field by the entrance-drive.

It had a tar-paper roof and a shed annex and an outhouse and a pump and a gazebo with a hammered-log floor, and inside a dart table and a hanging metal lamp and a loft that you'd climb up into and a fan high up over the main room that spun crooked since once some people had broken in and vandalized it a little bit and tried hanging from the fan, when they found there was not much to steal, and there was a large round table there, too, where people would play cribbage and sometimes euchre, and the cribbage board was a large flat board that someone had carved tracks and put nail-holes into, for all the pegs and whatnot. 

People had pig-roasts and coolers full of pop and those plastic-tube freeze-pops, and in the kitchen my parent's one eccentric friend would listen to opera simulcasts on Saturday afternoon -- something that I do, now -- and would do crossword and word puzzles from this one certain puzzle magazine -- one that I subscribe to, now.

After the friend group broke up, the property split between my father and his younger brother, my uncle, who eventually ended up just owning the whole thing.

My brother has been back occasionally, but I haven't, for years, and so my uncle told my brother and he went, but I didn't have a chance to, because of the distance and short notice.

Somehow it was always there, and I thought that I would have a chance to go back, one day.