A Wild Ground Writing Retreat

Last year, during the leave with income averaging I took following the launch of The Art of Floating, I went to the Stillwater retreat at Loretto Maryholme with Kim Fahner and Laura Young. I enjoyed it so much that I registered for this year’s Stillwater as soon as it opened in the fall but had to withdraw because I was hoping to go to Banff’s Science Fiction Workshop.

I was not accepted into Banff, however, freeing up a chuck of my writerly budget, and when Wild Ground Writing announced a new Ontario retreat in the fall, Writing on the Rocks, I jumped on the opportunity. Yes, this was a TAKE MY MONEY situation.

Serendipitously, it was scheduled for the last weekend in October, just as I was starting my next leave with income averaging.

In another bit of kismet, Kim had registered for the retreat as well, and we decided to travel together.

When we arrived Thursday evening, the trumpeter swans were calling to each other in the near-darkness after sunset, and I heard the slap of their wings on the water as they took off. It was a poetic moment that boded well for the retreat. We’d hear them every night. Just *sigh*.

Inside, the other three retreaters, Judy, Lori, and Linda were already gathered in the living room, chatting while our host Anita bustled in the kitchen preparing supper. She saw us to our rooms and, when we joined the others, facilitated introductions.

After supper — Looney Spoons better butter chicken; the lot of us ended up asking for all the recipes Anita used — we had a grounding, intention-setting session using Mary Oliver’s “The Journey” as a jumping off point. Writing and sharing soon gave way to more animated conversation, and we eventually all found our ways to bed.

What I hadn’t noticed before was my goodie bag: a copy of Maggie Smith’s Dear Writer, a notebook and pack of gel pens, stickers, and — most important for me as I’d forgotten mine at home — a sleep mask and ear plugs. Not that I really needed them. The cottage was blissfully quiet.

In the morning, I started the coffee pot and headed outside to get a better look at the property in the daytime — it’s gorgeous!

In lieu of description, which would not do it justice, I’ll share a few photos here.

After a breakfast of baked oatmeal, fruit and Greek yogurt, I absconded with a pack of tarot cards to do some journalling, went for a walk, and when I returned, Anita had started a fire in the old stove on the covered patio and was stoking the sauna. Lunch was chicken sandwiches and squash soup — yum!

Some pictures from my walk:

I spent part of the afternoon on the patio and the rest inside. It was my most productive day. I checked the water temperature — too cold for a dip — before a trip to the sauna. Then, it was time for supper, which was a delicious beef bourguignon, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

That evening, after even more chat — Judy absolutely must write her humorous story collection, “It Gets Better”! — Linda, Lori, and Judy wanted to watch the first game of the World Series. I settled in for another writing session.

Saturday morning, I took my coffee out onto the covered patio and tried to start a fire in the stove. Tried was the operative term. The flow of the day before had faded, though, and my morning writing session was not as productive.

After journalling, I went inside for a late breakfast of strata, which was nam (Finn for yum). We had an informal check-in and discussion of Billy Collin’s “The First Line of a Poem.” That devolved into a discussion of the AMA methodology and program.

Kim and I hit the road to shop in Coldwater. They’d just had their Witch Walk the week before and the downtown was turned out for Halloween. I think we were looking for a bookshop, but we got distracted.

Again, my descriptive powers are not up to the task. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

And a few of my purchases.

An unexpected call about a work-related pay issue ate up my spoons in the afternoon, but I still managed to write a bit before supper, which was salmon. I think I ate more than my share but was comforted when most of the retreaters when back for seconds.

We had a bonfire after supper, which was lovely. The second game of the World Series was on that night, but I opted for an early bedtime.

The final morning was quiet and gentle. I took my coffee out onto the covered patio again and watched the songbirds, waterfowl, and wildlife (mostly squirrels and chipmunks — but brazen!). Sunrise was lovely and then morning mist rose from the water.

Breakfast was pumpkin baked oatmeal, and we stayed at the table for a final check-in. I got a last journalling/writing session in before packing everything up and getting ready to depart.

One thing I loved about Writing on the Rocks was the largely unstructured nature of the retreat. Tarot and oracle decks and other prompts (there was a new poem every day) were available to anyone at any time, as was Anita. My goal was to kickstart my month-long leave, and for this, the retreat was perfect.

A lovely cottage with more than enough room for everyone to find their ideal writing spots, a beautiful location with opportunities to wander, a casual atmosphere that encouraged bonding and camaraderie, fabulous food, and even a chance side-quest into Coldwater. It was a Mary Poppins retreat, practically perfect in every way.