Beauty abounds as spring arrives! We’re still taking applications for residencies in June, September, and October 2026. For more info and to apply see Sourwood Forest Artist Residency 2026.
WELCOME, THE BEAN! Our newest writing space and extra bedroom.
It’s a quite morning at Sourwood Forest, and I’m sitting in The Bean, a teardrop camper stationed in the front yard: our newest writing space/bedroom acquired this winter for the benefit of future residents. From my seat at the small table, the sun rises behind my left shoulder. The window on my left faces the small trees between me and the garage. The garage is hidden, thankfully, by the wall between the back and side windows. The window on my right offers a wide view looking across the moss and bluets then into the trees at the far side of the front pasture. Sunlight shines on the crowns of Sourwood Forest there, though the ground between me and them is still in shadow.
In front of me, through the window over the small sink, I see trees with shadow in front and light behind – a view into the patch of maturing woods just this side of the county road. This morning’s cool dew fogs the tops of the camper’s sloping windows. I can hear the wood thrush singing behind me in the wettest section of Sourwood Forest, above the frog pond on Pedlar Farm. He is newly arrived. Or, could be a she. Both sing. I also hear the blue grey gnatcatchers, cardinals, chickadees, chipping sparrows, and the occasional white throated sparrow (they are still here, though I expect they’ll leave us for their breeding grounds up north any day). The red-eyed vireo adds his song to the chorus, and I’m reminded of last summer, when Sourwood Forest’s Songwriters Day both Michael and Grant created compositions inspired by the red-eyed vireo and the wood thrush.
Scott (my husband) finagled the camper into its summer resting position just two days ago. When we decided on the right spot, he secured the wheels and made it level using its stabilizers as well as rocks and parts of paving stones. Then we opened a good bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and toasted this successful collaboration: my vision, his labor, our money had brought a camper to Sourwood Forest, one we’ve named The Bean, after our last dog, Kona Bean, who died in 2015. Since the official start of Sourwood Forest in 2022, I have been dreaming of ways to host three artists at a time. A camper in the yard seemed a good option. To be a community in this far away place, we need three plus me. Now such a scenario is possible.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough demand for Sourwood Forest to need a third bedroom, but already I’m enjoying The Bean as a writing space. Recruiting residents is daunting, not just because of my limited social media skills (and even more limited interest in social media), but also because not everyone enjoys summer weather in Virginia. And getting here requires a long drive or train ride or a multi-flight airplane trip. Nonetheless, I know there are people out there who would benefit from time at Sourwood Forest. I know how the richness of the more than human world here can feed the soul. I just have to figure out how to reach creatives most suited to this place, find a way to fit that effort into other drains on my time and energy as I attempt to live within my bodily, spiritual, financial, and practical limits. I’m not sure what the future of Sourwood Forest looks like, but sitting here in The Bean, I am hopeful.