A place to be quiet. Only the creek to accompany your thoughts. Things slow and become clear. Take on the quality of the water.

On friends’ land in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, a little retreat was set into the side of the hill, nestled into the stacked granite wall of an old homestead. Here, it doesn’t take long to connect to the land. Just a couple sets of old blue hobbit doors hooked open and you are there in the tall cedars and ancient blue oaks, in the fall with the owls, and all year with the creek rush in your ears. A restored wood stove, books of poetry stacked in the corner, a comfy wide chair and a round jute rug to lay on and watch the stars emerge. Necessary things, we discover these to be.