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Manuscripts

Article Title

Return to Shangri La

Authors

Norma Messmer

Abstract

My hand groped over the weather beaten pine door for the rusty lock which would unfold our "Shangri La." Meeting no resistence from the tiny device, I proceeded blindly to feel for the light switch which would show the way for the rest of our crew. As my searching hand passed over fuses, wires, switches, and knobs, I was conscious of the "special" cabin aroma, a composition of ant' killer, mouse poison, ashes from last and the "springy" exhilarating Lake week's wiener roast, scent of the fresh, Hollybrook air.

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