3 times a day, a woman comes to the tower on the lake, unlocks the door & goes inside. Shortly thereafter, the sound of bells floats over the entire campus, and probably can be heard across the lake. This is not a lighthouse, though it looks like one. This is the Bell Tower. Automated bells chime every 1/4 hour, but 3 times a day they play music, and that is played by the Bell Lady.

She plays hymns and old favorites; "Oh Danny Boy" and "Abide With Me." As I walked to breakfast this morning, the melody pealing out from the Bell Tower couldn't have been more appropriate: "I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses."

Though I'm here in a professional capacity for a writer's workshop, and will take away a lot of new knowledge and wonderful contacts, my memories of Chautauqua will always be the gardens, the lake, and the sheer peace of the place. 

"And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known."

Chautauqua: notes from Paradise

Before I came here someone on a message board had posted that there were not many mosquitoes at Chautauqua because there were quite a few bats around. Yeah, right. I dismissed that thought quickly & packed 2 bottles of bug repellent; how could a few bats possibly matter? And it does turn out that he was wrong. There are not "quite a few" bats around. There are hundreds of them, thousands of them. There are flocks of them. I was looking for a better word, but anything like 'hordes' or 'legions' has a vampirish feel to it, which is the opposite of what I want. These are silent, swoopy, tiny creatures that fill the dusk air with flitting shapes and puncuate a glance out the window or a walk along the lake with little commas of second looks to try to follow their flight paths. 

Chautauqua as a whole, in fact, is batty for bats. At the book shop there is an entire section (up front) devoted to bat books for all ages. There are t-shirts, tote bags, magnets, book marks, and several stuffed animals.

And I can't say I blame them. Coming from a Wisconsin summer where stepping outside for longer than 10 seconds is an open invitation to every mosquito in the neighborhood, the relief of being able to sit in a garden for 3 hours painting (sans bug spray), as I did the other day, and not have one single mosquito so much as fly by, is hardly short of miraculous.

I met God's gift to writing today. Oh, yes. I had a 5 minute conversation with him (the writer, not God) after breakfast, and it became clear very quickly who I was dealing with. His published works amount to 6 short children's stories in a daily devotional booklet (which I was told without prompting). My favorite part was when he told me that he had shared the collection of stories with his students, and challenged them--not to share which one helped them learn more about God, but to figure out which ones were his.

Counterpoint to that, at dinner tonight I sat next to an actual Newberry Medal winner (the most prestigious award for childrens literature in the United States). He is one of those people who, when you go to google their name & you've only typed part of it, Google auto-fills in the rest for you. He asked me thoughtful questions about my life, and said I was to be admired for reinventing myself several times. He never once mentioned himself unless I asked a question about his life or his writing.

Hmmmm.

Mostly Victorian style homes here, with porches on every floor, all clustered close together and very narrow streets (no driving inside the grounds). And the most beautiful flower gardens everywhere you look. I seriously think there must be a community law that says you have to have incredible gardens because this entire place is an Eden. In addition to the private gardens of the homes/hotels/guest houses, there are little public areas tucked here & there with benches. I found a tiny little sunken garden this morning, maybe 15 feet across, where I sat and painted for a few hours. There's another pretty public garden near my guest house, & I suspect more hidden jewels all over the grounds. Plus a couple of larger park areas. AND, to top it all off, so far I haven't seen a single mosquito!! There are lots of little bats that come out at night, & apparently they eat them all!

Major security to get in here--you must have a gate pass which they check every time you come through the gate. Then once you're on the grounds, you enter the 19th century with everyone sitting on porches, walking everywhere, no locked doors, saying hello to everyone you pass, etc. I feel utterly safe here, which I have to tell you is a pretty awesome feeling given how I usually feel at home!!
 

I have my first critique meeting w/ my mentor tomorrow morning (we get 2 meetings). A little nervous about that, as I've heard the critiques here can be pretty blunt, to put it mildly.

Chautauqua: notes from Paradise

My room mate is a librarian. She has a librarian's voice, soft and gentle, and I am constantly having to ask her to repeat herself because I didn't hear her the first time. I am a figure skating coach. I have a figure skating coach's voice. I am capable of yelling, "If you don't pick your head up I'm making you skate laps for the rest of the hour!"--and from across the rink, over the sounds of 8 other coaches, the soundtrack of The Matrix that is playing on the overhead sound system, and the hockey game in the next rink over, my student can hear every word. My room mate has never asked me to repeat myself.

Chautauqua: notes from Paradise

I arrived yesterday at the Chautauqua Institute later than I'd wanted to--5:30, instead of 4:00. Stopped at the "Hall of Christ", where the older man who was giving orientations mildly chided me for my tardiness. Feeling less than charitable after my 9 hour drive and sitting in the 94 degree heat & high humidity, I bit my tongue and fled at the first opportunity.

The Chautauqua Institute is a non-driving community. You are allowed 1 hour to go to your guest house to drop off your luggage & then you must take your car off the grounds & park it for the remainder of the week. At the gate of the parking lot I realized I was supposed to have a parking pass, and didn't. So after parking in the farthest lot (of course), I traipsed to the visitors center, bought the pass, and hiked back to the car to set it in the windshield.

I now had 10 minutes left to find my way back to my hotel (approx. 1/4 mile), change into a nice dress(!), and find the hotel where the opening banquet was being held. Whose idea it was to have a formal banquet on the eve of the day when everyone arrived from all parts of the globe I don't know, but at that point I would have liked to have an earnest discussion with that person, preferably someplace where there would be no witnesses.

My hair was slicked down with sweat, my clothes were soaked, and there was no time for a shower or any other beauty ritual that could possibly allow me to make a good first impression. So I slid my sweaty self into the dress I'd picked out so carefully back home, twisted my hair off my face, and found some jewelry that didn't clash. Leaving my luggage exploded all over the room with fervent mental apologies to my unmet room mate, I headed for dinner. Welcome to Chautauqua!