OCTOBER 1, 2026 – After managing client needs this morning and again for a stint this afternoon, my main focus today was the annual occasion of “reverse engineering” at the Red Cabin; that is, fall dock removal. Weather conditions were ideal for the project, and far from being a chore, the effort brought me tremendous satisfaction.
My first goal was not to kill myself disassembling the dock frames, which I designed many years ago in accordance with modular Tinker Toy principles, then removing the eight supporting pipes that are augured into the lakebed each spring, and after hauling all the pieces up to high ground, pulling out the staircase connecting the dock and that high ground.
My second goal was not to hurt myself.
My third goal was to complete the project by sundown, including the fully organized stacking of all the “Tinker Toy” parts and 10 sections of decking.
All three objectives were achieved, not by chance but in keeping with my patented Ericare ™ expletive-free method—fully licensable to all qualified parties. Given how smooth the operation proceeded, I allowed myself frequent breaks to enjoy the extraordinary autumn beauty of my surroundings.
One of many special features was bright sunshine on water rippled by an isolated breeze half a mile or more out on the lake. Like dancing diamonds, sunbeams bounced off the water. I’d seen this many times, of course, but today as I watched, I noticed how paradoxical such a sight is—constant sparkling, so enduring, it was mesmerizing, yet each flash among the thousands was just that: a flash, lasting no more than a nano-second.
Another memorable experience occurred as I was slowly wading from the site of the “reverse engineering” project to the “front dock” about 200 feet down the shore. A slight breath of air blew fallen leaves and pine needles across the surface of the clear water, as if leaves and needles were small craft in a regatta of the thousands, all racing the sun. Every now and again, more leaves and needles would spiral down from branches aloft and make soft noiseless landings on the lake surface. As I marveled at this beauty, I pondered the wonder of our planet as it spins and floats in a cosmos too vast for human comprehension.
When I later went on a leisurely woodland hike, I gazed up at the treetops. Each of the many big old trees stood like a royal, and I realized how many I’ve taken for granted for all too long. They were magnificent in their fall dress uniforms, and they projected close unity of purpose. Among the younger generation of arbors I found that all 30 of the hemlocks I’ve planted are doing handsomely well. One, in fact, has attained height of over six feet; its nearby friend and neighbor, over five feet. Both specimens appear at the edge of the “Fiddlers 4-est” section of the “tree garden.”
In tumultuous times, few diversions can bring greater calm than a woodland walk in autumn splendor next to a crystal-clear lake in the heart of the continent. Add a giant Tinker Toy project to the mix and you’ve discovered Nirvanaland.
Subscribe to this blog and received notifications of new posts by email.
© 2026 by Eric Nilsson
