Old Picture and memory

There's this little falling apart cabin made of salvaged boards and stained-glass windows on the mountain above Aimee's house. It's a typical dark hippie ruin: mice in the drawer if the desk, no plumbing, a little rickety porch that overlooks a clearing thick with chapparel. The redwoods and oaks swallow and darken the cabin itself, though, and the matress in the loft is torn and damply soft. The interior is decorated with some abalone shells, many candles and candle holders, and old bottles that cluster around a broken sink. There is the arching belly of a mossy oak that sticks into the living room, and detritus of the roaming 80's kids: Thrasher magazines, beer cans, and scraps of salvaged carpet.
You climb an almost vertical forest path to get there. Aimee's parents built it & lived there when her older brother was a baby, toting water and food up the hill with the remarkable aplomb and idealistic sincerity of the young back-to-the-landers in the 1960's.
Years later it was re-discovered by the barefoot longhaired dryads that Aimee, Zina, and I were in highschool. We'd sleep over in the cabin on the ruined matress, lit by only by candles on the floor, drink wine, and work ourselves efortlessly into our own dreamy outrageous hilarity...nights lasting forever, epic and golden and instantly historical. We were woken in the fogged mornings by the tree branches dripping through the hole in the wall next to the torn bed. Sometimes we'd bring our boyfiends and all get it on in our own seperate corners of the little place. Mice would keep us awake, rattling in the candle-holders and scampering (we called the movements of the mice "skibbling") across the floor.
Years later, during The Sad Days, I stayed at Aimee's house again (I was living out of my car at the time, and feeling rootless and embroiled in a hell of my own design). We journeyed up the cabin one day and found deer bones, forget-me-nots, and enlarged holes in the walls of the place. I was intensly skinny, due to being too sad to, and wearing a beaded dress from my obliterating night before at the bar with jeans thrown on underneath. Hence, this photo...taken in one of the cabins many stained glass windows: