In the gray of winter, the pines stand as guardians over the land. This is the view from the deck of my guest cabin. The lovely pair of white pines whisper in the wind and gleam in the sun. Below them the curved branches of the sassafras dance. From this spot I can hear the song of the South Toe River, sometimes roaring with rain, other times a whisper. A red-tailed hawk flies overhead, seeing all.