Greetings from the Hill Country of Texas
Thank you, friends, for coming along with me on The Row House Road Show. Many have made my study leave trips possible this year, and I remain utterly humbled and grateful. Joyful, even!
This dispatch simply relates the initial “wow” of arriving at Laity Lodge, a place we’ve wanted to visit for many years.
Not that the road trip was bland. In fact, we encountered several firsts and amazements I’ll likely regale you with in coming weeks.
On Wednesday morning I reflected on arriving here in the dark. It felt natural to write about it in couplets.
That might have something to do with the grandeur of the setting and the poems etched in stones along the paths.1
We spent an intense hour on interstate 10 and another on Smaller roads in the darkening Texas hill country. Apple Maps held out, though we were warned they Might not. We kept the written instructions handy. Laity Lodge lay somewhere beyond the entry gate. Meandering along crushed limestone lanes, our Directions said: "Take road into the river." The sign Agreed. I said, "Well, OK," and into the Jordan we lurched. Crawling back up the scrub-bounded lane, our Subaru came upon a flashlight, our host at the Waterfall Apartment. Ambient lights in the trees made an elvish atmosphere, As did the whiff of cedars and the trickling of falls. I woke up to darkness, save for the patio light Making its way into the stone & tile bathroom. Chilly air from lack of insulation gave way to A whispered furnace as wild turkeys gobbled. Fridge and counters were crowded with fruit, snacks, And dinner. I fumbled our coffee supplies. I curled up on one of the myriad window seats. The turkeys kept going, and Becky snoozed. Warming, I silently spooned grapefruit, watching For the first sign of daylight above the river's bluff. The dammed-up part of the Frio River lay beneath My feet, to the left. To my right, its shallows. The Texas sun slowly revealed Frio's limestone strata, Crags, live oaks, and the frizzy tops of ash juniper trees. The horrific and silly invasion of Ukraine weighed on my spirit, Knowing the best I might ever do for Vanya's family is fight with prayer, Pleading for the resolve of a people and the dissolve of a tyrant, And asking for openness to enjoy this place, this feast of peace.
Mary Elizabeth Holdsworth loved poetry and was instrumental in lavishing Laity Lodge with art and beauty of all kinds. Her husband, Howard Edward Butt, Sr., is the namesake of H.E.B., a massive food store chain in Texas. I’ll give more of their fascinated story in my next dispatch.