Breathing the Air, Clearing My Head

I’m spending the week at The Rainforest Village Resort in the Olympic National Forest. It may just be the most beautiful place on earth, and it’s a fantastic location for a writing retreat.

The Village is remote and quiet, and surrounded by glorious natural beauty. At any moment, I can turn from my work and look out over lovely Lake Quinault, ringed by spruce-covered hills and wreathed in swirling mist. When writer’s block strikes, I can step outside and enter a trail just feet away that takes me under mossy trees dripping with rain. Sigh. Dirt-loving pagan paradise.

Another particularly enjoyable aspect of the retreat is the company of other writers, several of whom I’ve only met previously on Twitter. I feel like I know them well, and meeting them in person for the first time was like greeting old friends. Opportunities to meet new friends, too. These are my people.

Where is your happy place as a writer?

 

 

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4 thoughts on “Breathing the Air, Clearing My Head”

  1. So very jealous of your writing retreat. I lived in Seattle when younger and miss those dark dark wet green forests. (Now I live in the bright dry desert. Which has it’s own magic, just different.)

    1. At first, I didn’t know what to make of wet AND cold, but it’s so indescribably lovely that I forgot about any silly discomfort. The extraordinary vivid greens and golds of the mosses, and the slow beauty of the trees…

      sigh.

  2. Somewhat jealous, but in the best possible way! Everyone needs a writing retreat, and the rainforest sounds like perfection. Enjoy! I miss you guys.

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