Today the sun arrived and the temperature went up into the 70’s. We arrived yesterday at Hambidge in the rain, pouring at times, fog and wind, like it was going to go on for days or weeks. But it moved on, went south and today the colors of the trees on the hillsides call to be admired, to be stared at, open-mouthed and with reverance. It’s the south and everything here seems of a gentler nature; people passing on the street slow their step just a bit, say hello, nod, look you in the eye. The little town of Clayton, five miles south of Dillard (where The Hambidge Center resides) has a health food store, a coffee shop called the The Grape & the Bean, a local medium who visits once a month to do readings at Mindful Expressions, a “new age” shop owned and run by Christy, a 64-year old, whose charm and wit kept Liza and I buying crystals, candles and charms for ourselves and friends until we’d racked up a good $100 each.

Last night was our first dinner with the other artists here. There are eight of us this week: Norma, a quilter from Asheville; James, a painter from Atlanta; Dick, a composer, from Atlanta; Kathy, a storyteller, from Murietta, GA; Fereydoon, a painter from Atlanta; Janet, a poet from Columbus, OH. The chef, Cindy (whose reputation as a fantastic cook preceded her), laid out a delicious dinner of lentil dahl, curry, basmati rice, collard greens and pumpkin bread for dessert. Better even than the wonderful taste was the loving energy felt in the ingestion of such food. It was a sweet beginning to our week and we were welcomed with loving arms into the Hambidge family of artists.

My little nest in the woods is called Cove Cabin. It has wood floors painted white, a red roof, windows that stretch across one entire side of the house looking out into the trees to the hills beyond. There’s a small bedroom, living room with two desks in it, a couch, chair and fireplace. The kitchen and bathroom do what they were intended–no frills, definitely this is a “cabin” not a condo. I set up a little altar, hung a sparkling angel in the window, burnt incense, lit candles, laid out my books and bought a flowering plant to place on the desk. It is beginning to feel like home. Today I read and slept and wrote a little bit–a warming up exercise, mostly, about the leaves and the sounds of the animals in the woods. Last night I slept in a hotel in town as I wasn’t quite ready to be alone in the cabin, but tonight I’ll sleep there on my little single bed and listen to the night and hopefully, dream a good dream.

The woods outside my cabin at twilight in the rain.

Leaves on the path.

The road up to the cabin.

Cove Cabin with the sun breaking through.

Leaves, leaves.

The Grape & Bean in Clayton.