2008-01-09: A place of healing
It may be because I played Heart of the Rose last night, but I can't help but think of an experience I had this morning as a visit to an earth mage's tower.
Today I went to Conway, MA, where a member of the forestry Cooperative I work for lives. It was cloudy and overcast, but warm. The day threatened rain, but held off. Moving through the woods, past where two new houses were being built by the road we came into the quiet, beautiful woods of his home. Hemlock trees growing beneath birch, oak and maple.
The path wound around to the top of a promontory, where the house stands. He is an architect, and built it himself when he moved here. It is a small house, two stories, circular in shape like a tower atop the hill. Inside, you enter into a screened in area where we left our boots and snow shoes, and go through the lower level with a tiny kitchen and dining area. To get to the main living area a staircase spirals around the central column of the house, which is a masonry stove and chimney fed daily with small sticks once a day. It then holds that heat in the thermal mass of the brick of the stove. As well as in natural field and river stones Hans gathered by hand on his walks about the land and then mortared together surrounding the masonry stove, creating a mosaic of glacier deposited stone that is so characteristic of New England and native to his land.
Rising above the dim room below, stepping from the spiral staircase we entered the light and space of the living quarters. Windows and sky lights open on to a view of the hills beyond, with landings bedecked with natural wood branches for ballisters beckoning us beyond. My host went below to make us some tea, leaving me in the calm and beauty of his home. Classical music played on the radio, powered by solar panels above us, while a merry fire burned in a small fireplace grate, part of the second story continuation of the masonry stove.
Everywhere around me was beauty. The natural grain of the wood paneling which lined all the walls. The wood of the floor and ceiling. Musical instruments were set out, hand-made drums and flutes, an accordian and smaller squeeze box waited to be picked up and made to sing. A small table with two chairs sat before the generously paned windows, inviting thought of intimate dinners spread as the sun set. The sleeping loft beyond, with built in shelves with books dedicated to art and nature close at hand.
A place of peace, a place of healing, a place of creativity.
Hans has lived there for 30 years. He said it has been a place of rest and healing for him. A retreat from the busy world. He also works in Connecticut as an architect. A place to heal in heart and soul. I could feel it before he said it. The beauty radiating from the simple sacredness in every line. He hosts sweat lodges and drum circles on the land. He once dreamed of creating shelters on the land, places for writers and others to commune with nature and find their own creative spark and healing. This may not happen now, but the place retains that intent, and shows the spirit of love and light that he has heard and shared with the world through the manifestation of his vision.
Truly an inspiration.
2008-01-17 14:06:03 Christoph
Very evocative, this must be a marvelous home to live in.