Pine Tree A-Frame Retreat

09/14/2025

09/10/2025

A Romantic Campfire Story🔥: 💍 The Lantern Vows

The forest was still holding its breath when they arrived.

The cabin stood in a clearing washed with the pale gold of early morning. Lanterns hung from the branches like captured stars, their light mingling with the first rays of dawn. The air smelled of pine, woodsmoke, and something sweeter—wild roses tucked into the porch railings.

On the swing sat Elara, her silk wedding gown catching the light in soft ripples. Tiny moons embroidered along the hem seemed to glow faintly, as if they’d been sewn from silver dust. In her hands, she cradled a bouquet of wildflowers—violet, cream, and blush—bound with a ribbon that trailed like a whisper in the breeze.

Kael stood barefoot on the grass, a linen shirt open at the throat, holding a single lantern. Its glow lit his face as he looked at her—not with surprise, but with the quiet certainty of someone who had been walking toward this moment his whole life.

They met halfway between the porch and the trees. No officiant. No guests. Only the forest, the cabin, and the silent witnesses—shadowy figures in faded wedding attire, smiling from the edges of the light.

He set the lantern down, took her bouquet, and laced his fingers with hers. Their vows were not spoken aloud; they were written in the way her eyes softened, in the way his thumb brushed the back of her hand, in the way the lanterns swayed as if nodding in approval.

When they kissed, the clearing seemed to brighten. The embroidered moons shimmered. The bouquet’s ribbon lifted into the air, curling upward like smoke, before settling gently at their feet.

By the time the sun had fully risen, the shadowed guests were gone. The lanterns hung still. And on the porch swing, where Elara had been sitting, lay a folded note in looping script:

“You are each other’s first light. Carry it always.”

09/09/2025

The fair is coming!

🚨🚨 this contest is now closed and winner announced. Please see week 2 giveaway in new post!

🎢We are just THREE WEEKS away from the 2025 Blount County Fair and we are partnering with Blount County Tourism for THREE family 4 pack fair pass giveaways! Make sure you like this post, like/follow BOTH of our pages and get out there and grab your fair program from one of the following locations:

Blount County Courthouse- Oneonta
Blount County Co-Op- Oneonta
Piggly Wiggly- Snead
Busy B- Allgood
Oneonta Chevron
Blount County Multi-Purpose Building- Cleveland
Blount County Courthouse Annex- Hayden
S&S Grocery- Cleveland
Chevron- Cleveland
Tonka Supply- Cleveland
Snead NAPA - Snead
Tyson HR Office- Blountsville
Locust Fork Produce

Soon to be found at:

Dollar General in Brooksville
Highland Super Stop
Blountsville locations TBD

📌The fair program is also available online at: https://blountcountyfair.com/program/

🚨Winner of the ticket giveaways will be directly notified from this account. Please be aware of scam posts and notifications. First contest ends Monday, September 1. Each week there will be a new giveaway post.

09/09/2025

We are booking fast! Enjoy the perfect place to host a family retreat. Come stay with us!

09/09/2025

Weather is cooling down, time to plan for your next adventure and enjoy cozy weather. Come stay with us!

09/08/2025

09/08/2025

A Campfire Story 🔥: 🌊 The Lost Submarine of Blackwater Cove

The storm that night was the kind that makes the ocean sound alive—like it’s breathing heavy, waiting for something. By morning, the beach at Blackwater Cove was littered with driftwood, fishing nets, and the usual wreckage the sea coughs up after a gale.

But then people saw it.

A black shape, half-buried in the sand, longer than a city bus and slick with seaweed. At first, they thought it was a whale. Then the tide pulled back, and the truth gleamed in the gray light: a submarine.

No one knew where it came from. No navy claimed it. No markings, no flag—just a rusted hull and a single open hatch yawning toward the sky.

The first man to climb inside was a local fisherman named Calder. He said the air was dry, like it had been sealed for decades, but it smelled faintly of brine and something metallic—like old blood. The control panels were dead, the gauges frozen mid-needle. In the crew quarters, the bunks were made, but the blankets were damp, as if someone had just left.

And then there were the boots. Twelve pairs, lined up perfectly along the wall. All empty.

By the time the Coast Guard arrived, the hatch had slammed shut. They tried to cut it open, but the steel was thicker than anything they’d seen—like it had been built for a depth no human should reach.

That night, the submarine was gone. No tracks, no drag marks—just smooth sand where it had been.

Some say it still surfaces after storms, always in a different place, always with the hatch open, waiting. And if you climb inside, you’ll find thirteen pairs of boots.

The last pair will be yours.

09/08/2025

A Campfire Story🔥: The Lantern Man of Devil’s Fork

They say Devil’s Fork wasn’t always cursed. Back before the Civil War, it was just a narrow bend in the Brazos River, where trappers camped and ferrymen crossed. But one night, a ferryman named Jonah took a load of passengers across in a storm. The river was swollen, the current mean. Halfway over, the lantern on the bow blew out.

The boat never made it to the other side.

When they found Jonah’s body days later, his hands were still locked around the lantern pole—eyes wide, mouth full of river silt. Folks buried him on the bank, but the lantern was never recovered.

That’s when the sightings began.

Hunters, drifters, even lawmen swore they’d see a lone light bobbing along the riverbank on moonless nights. If you followed it, it would always stay just ahead—until you realized you were standing in water up to your knees, the current pulling harder than you remembered.

The old-timers say the Lantern Man isn’t trying to hurt you. He’s trying to lead you across… but he doesn’t know he’s dead, and he doesn’t know the crossing is gone.

One old ranch hand told me he saw the Lantern Man up close. Said the light wasn’t fire at all, but something trapped inside the glass—something that moved like it was breathing. He swore Jonah’s face was half bone, half shadow, and when he spoke, the words came out like bubbles breaking the surface.

The man never went near the Fork again.

If you ever camp near Devil’s Fork and see a light moving against the wind, don’t follow it. Just turn your back, close your eyes, and wait for the sound of the river to fade.

Because if you hear the creak of oarlocks behind you, it’s already too late.

09/06/2025

Who remembers their first fish? Come stay with us!

09/06/2025

A Campfire Story🔥: Final Voyage, Chapter 3 - Alien Discovery

The descent capsule hit Eden-9’s atmosphere like a stone through glass.
Green clouds boiled past the viewport, lightning flashing in silent bursts. The signal—the one that had been pulsing in his blood since orbit—grew sharper, more insistent. It wasn’t just calling him anymore. It was guiding him.

The capsule’s landing struts bit into black soil. The air outside shimmered faintly, as if the atmosphere itself was alive. Thorn’s suit readouts confirmed it was breathable—barely—but the viral conversion in his blood meant he could survive here longer than any unaltered human.

He stepped out into a clearing. Two hulking silhouettes loomed in the mist.

The first was unmistakably human—though not from VIRELITH. Its hull bore the faded insignia of the Eden-8 mission, lost over two centuries ago. The ship was gutted, its landing gear half-buried in moss-like growths that pulsed faintly with the same rhythm as the planet’s heartbeat. How, and more importantly why was it here? Each ship was assigned a different planet.

The second shape was an another ship but it was…wrong.

Angular where human ships were curved. Its hull was a matte black that seemed to drink in the light. The impact crater around it was ancient, overgrown with the same bioluminescent flora. A jagged tear in its side revealed a glimpse of the interior—organic-looking corridors, like the inside of a ribcage.

Bodies lay scattered near the breach. Not human.

Tall, elongated forms with pale, chitinous skin stretched over lean muscle. Their faces were sharp, almost skeletal, with black, glassy eyes that reflected the green glow of Eden-9. Their suits were torn, revealing veins that ran dark and sluggish. Thorn’s suit scanner pinged: Hemotype V – Variant.

They had been infected too. Another life form with the virus as him. How was that possible?

The realization hit him like a blow:
The virus wasn’t human in origin. It was theirs. The same adaptation, born of desperation, to survive long voyages and dying worlds. Two species, strangers to each other, had found the same solution—and the same planet.

The twist was already forming in his mind.

What Ellis didn’t know that there was an alien ship that crashed on Earth centuries ago. Humans were able to advance the technology and the virus from the alien crew to determine a map and find the Eden planets, those deemed possibly habitable by humans.

The crew was infected on purpose so they would survive the trip, but were never told. Those in control of the missions decided it was better to take a chance on immortality than to let the Human race die so every crew was infected. It was our only chance.

But the aliens had been here first. And maybe… they were still here.

From the shadows of the alien wreck, something moved.