Grandmother Tree

Grandmother Tree by Dr. Joel Ying

I remember the great grandmother tree of Claymont Mansion.
The dappled light under the shade of her branches;
the wind rustling the leaves into the rich moist soil.
Grandmother has seen many suns, moons, and stars.
A lark sings to the beauty of her nurturing.
Walking paths meander here and there.
Where do the roots go?
She holds the whole world in her branches.

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Visiting Claymont Mansion

It was almost midnight. As I turned off the country highway of West Virginia, the darkness thickened into misty shadows covering the landscape. Open spaces, occasional homes with dim yellow porch lights, scattered hedges… . This was my first visit to Claymont. There were no streetlights, and the unfamiliar roads left a sinking feeling in my gut.

I had landed in Dulles airport in Washington D.C., but now those 50 miles seemed like worlds away. It was 2008, cell phone signal had disappeared through parts of the drive. I had to use the paper directions and hope that I was on the right roads. I pulled off onto an unmarked gravel driveway, and it snaked around and through a long tree-covered path that was large enough for just one car. I held my breath as I passed a building on the right with no lights. The shadows seemed to hide secrets that I would not stop to find. I hoped I was on the right property for the retreat center, but now I wasn’t sure.

The driveway opened into a clearing and in the distance I could see eerie yellow lights from the front porch and one of the downstairs windows. A blanket of clouds spread overhead and swallowed the light of the moon and stars. The night was completely quiet and dark. I was lost and alone, but relieved to find a place that I might be able to get directions. I hoped this place was safe.

No one answered the door, and I pushed it open to find an empty hall. The sign said, “Welcome to Claymont.” Waves of relief flooded over me. I had imagined wandering all night trying to find this place. I followed some voices to the kitchen and found some friendly faces.

For those that have been to Claymont Mansion in West Virginia, there is a lot to remember: the bedroom with the lady’s portrait whose eyes follow you everywhere, the floors that creak when you walk but also in the middle of the night when no one is around, crevices and passages that seem to hide secrets and ghosts.

Claymont Court, as the mansion is called, once belonged to the descendants of George Washington. Rebuilt in 1838 after a fire burned the original 1820 structure, almost 60 rooms spread over the mansion’s 16,000 square feet to create an “old world feeling” updated into the modern century with electric lights and running water. While you can still feel the old grandeur, by modern standards the accommodations are rustic. The non-profit Claymont Society continues to restore the historic property near Charles Town, West Virginia, and manages it as a retreat center and an organic farm that invites volunteer WWOOFers to learn about sustainable farming.

The Claymont Mansion has a large gathering space for community workshops and a kitchen that will cook amazing foods for you. On the property you will also find a renovated 450-square-foot barn that has had large retreats from well-known teachers like Thich Naht Hanh, the recently passed Zen monk and peace activist. The property contains walking paths along forests, orchards, streams, and even the large Grandmother Tree of the property in my opening poem. You can sit or stand under the immensity of her inviting branches and feel her blessing.

I have experienced many life-changing retreats at Claymont, and I hope that communities will continue to gather there. In these out-of-the-way retreat spaces, you can leave the day-to-day world behind, nourish the body with good food, and rest the weary soul. Places like Claymont hold and nurture transformation and rejuvenation.

Discover more about Claymont Retreat Center: claymont.org

What are the places that nurture you?

Photos of Grandmother Tree at Claymont Court

Winter photos from Deb Jewett