There is a place up a narrow gravel road, around a sharp turn and up the mountain side. Tucked in among trees that count time in centuries and stones that count in ages you will find the cabin. Looking like something from a beginning pages of a fairy tale this place is called the Sanctuary.
With neither running water nor electrical this place is as rustic as can be but holds all the charm one might fantasize about.
While some might see only a 100 square feet, like most magical things, the closer you look the more you will see.
Dwelling in this place like a forest guardian is what some might say an old hippie but if you look with the eyes of a child you might just see something else.
Tucked about the yard are works of his hands