I’ve been reminiscing about a writers' retreat I attended a few years ago in Pennsylvania. It was during this time of year that I had that wonderful experience. During the past few days, I have received emails from across the country from some of my fellow writers who attended the same retreat. We have so many fond memories of our time together in those beautiful, rustic cabins.
From my journal on one of those days, I wrote: Arrived a little while ago from the Scranton airport. It is cold here, but the sun is out. Remnants of powdered snow linger in patches on the ground and on nearby rocks. I have been assigned to one of the cabins, which is nestled in a wooded area surrounded by tall trees. There’s a tiny porch with a rocking chair. There’s also a pathway that leads down into the woods.
The leaveless trees stand tall and firm and let the sun filter through. Some dry orange leaves still cling stubbornly to some trees as if not wanting to yield to the coming winter cold. My little cabin creaks as the strong wind pounds the walls.
The other writers and I are to meet with the editors in the “big house” down the hill. That house is quaint and charming. Across the street is a creek. We shall workshop our manuscripts then. Looking forward to it.
I wish you abundant blessings and happy writing in the coming year. I hope that you too will someday attend a writer’s retreat that will leave you with wonderful memories.