The Artisan's Workshop.
You wake to the gentle sound of birdsong.
And after a while,
Get up and go down to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast.
After.
You stand outside the door and take deep breaths.
The air is crisp.
But the sun casts a warm glow over the landscape.
It is the kind of day.
That invites a leisurely walk.
With no particular destination in mind.
With no hurry and no plan.
You step out of your cottage.
Closing the door behind you.
Frost still lies in the hollows of the hedges,
But it is already melting as the day warms.
The air smells fresh,
Clean and still holds the scents of autumn.
You walk down the lane.
From the old lady's cottage,
A little smoke rises straight from the chimney.
There is no wind today.
The haven seems held in a bright stillness.
A few trees still hold their leaves.
The oak and beech have turned a deep red and bronze.
The peace of the day settles around you as you walk through.
There is something comforting about letting you walk.
Unfold with no fixed destination in mind.
You are free to do as you wish.
You find your steps taking you towards the lane that leads to the old manor.
And the little station.
A little way beyond the pretty station house.
You see the entrance to a lane.
In summer,
It would almost be hidden by the trees of hawthorn and elder that grow on each side.
Now with the leaves falling.
You can see that it runs parallel to the train tracks.
You smile to yourself,
Knowing that the haven opens these new ways for you from time to time.
You turn down the path,
Which is smooth and level.
A small stream borders it on your left.
Murmuring gently.
You can see the trees in spring.
Will be a mass of white blossom.
Now they still hold coloured leaves and scarlet berries.
Small birds hop and flutter among the branches.
The path winds gently through the meadow.
And you see ahead of you a building that nestles among a grove of trees.
Their leaves are bright gold and still unfallen.
The building is old,
Made of stone and polished timbers.
And smoke rises from a chimney.
A picturesque place.
Large double doors are open.
And you see that the building is a workshop.
A figure is busy at work,
Hands moving skillfully over something you can't quite make out.
You feel a quiet sense of curiosity mingled with the warm welcome of discovery.
The artisan looks up at you as you reach the doorway.
Offering a gentle nod of acknowledgement,
As if they were expecting you.
Their eyes hold a quiet wisdom,
Though they say very little.
There is something mysterious about them.
As though they've been here for much longer than you realize.
Perhaps waiting for a day like today,
Where you would find your way here.
The artisan lifts his hand,
Encouraging you to step into the workshop.
There is a warm smell of wood shavings.
But they are also working in metal and clay.
As you look around.
You sense there's something intriguing about the artisan.
A subtle magical presence.
Something that faintly reminds you of the Fae from the Faerie Wood.
It's only a feeling,
A quiet suspicion that perhaps the artisan,
Like the mysterious ponytrap driver,
Could be something more than they appear.
But as they continue their work in this hidden corner of the haven,
You're left to simply wonder,
Content with the gentle mystery surrounding them.
All around you,
Handcrafted items are neatly arranged.
Wooden carvings.
Pottery.
Woven baskets.
And delicate trinkets.
They are all crafted with great delicacy and beauty.
Holding,
You think,
A whisper of magic.
Against the far wall,
A cheerful fire crackles,
Flanked by two comfortable armchairs.
A place for the artisan to sit and relax.
He gestures for you to take a seat.
And you do so.
Watching them continue their work.
Their hands move deftly,
Shaping wood and clay with a skill that seems almost otherworldly.
For a while,
You sit in comfortable silence.
You feel perfectly welcome here.
And the rhythmic sounds of the artisan's work.
Lull you into a deep relaxation.
The gentle scrape of wood being carved.
The quiet crackle of the fire.
And the soft,
Earthly scent of the workshop combine to create a sense of calm that settles deeply within you.
After a while.
The artisan pauses and offers you a hot drink.
The mug he hands you is simple but beautifully made.
Warm in your hands as you take a sip.
It is a herbal blend,
Warming and calming.
As you sit,
Sipping your tea.
You allow yourself to gaze around the small details of the workshop.
The way the light catches on the smooth surfaces of the handmade items.
The soft hum of creativity that seems to fill the air.
This place is more than just a workshop.
Just as the artisan is more than he seems.
This is a place of subtle magic.
Where time seems to slow.
And the world outside fades into the background.
After finishing his own tea.
The artisan continues with his work.
He is silent,
Yet you feel a deep sense of understanding between you.
There is no need for words or questions.
Instead,
You feel welcomed simply to share in this quiet moment.
Eventually,
The light outside begins to shift.
The gold of the day growing deeper as the afternoon advances.
The artisan looks up from their work.
And offers a small smile.
As though they have sensed it is time for you to go.
You rise from the chair,
Feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found this hidden place Outside the wind has arisen.
It tugs the golden leaves of the grove from their twigs,
And the air is full of brilliant leaves.
Spinning and fluttering.
You turned to bid goodbye to the artisan.
Who watches from the doorway.
And raises a hand in response.
The path seems different on the way back quieter.
Though you can still hear the soft murmur of the stream.
Leaves skip down the lane and past your feet.
And when you look back.
The grove of trees and the workshop.
Have vanished around the bend.
As you walk on.
You think of the artisan and the quiet way their workshop seem to appear.
As if drawn into your path by the haven's gentle magic.
The walk home is pleasant,
The wind mild and full of leaves.
The sky is beginning to turn,
Streaked with shades of pink and orange as the sun sets behind the hills.
By the time you reach your cottage,
The first stars have begun to appear in the sky.
You step inside and enjoy the homeliness.
The quiet domesticity of making your meal.
And then preparing for bed.
As you get ready to sleep something catches your attention a faint scent of wood shavings and herbs.
Drifts through the air.
Just like in the artisan's workshop.
It is subtle.
Barely noticeable.
But enough to remind you of the magical place you found today.
With a deep breath.
You lie down.
The warmth of the day.
Both discovery and peace still lingers in your mind.
You know that one day you will return to the workshop.
Because you are welcome there.
And will be again.
Another secret of the haven has unfolded itself to your eyes.
Listening to the wind outside.
As you allow yourself to sink down.
Down into a deep sleep.
And quiet sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
You
