The cabin is nice, but the natural environment here is something utterly remarkable and impossible to sum up in photos. The stream must fall 5 metres over just 100 metres or so—it splits into three charging sections, with a hand-made bridge across them, through a forest that has a magnetic beauty. There is a natural sacredness to the place. There are epic, moss-covered boulders carved by millennia of water, and tossed about like dice. If you have any tendency to connect with nature, this place might be special—it was enormously so for me. I wrote four songs and a poem by that stream, in just two days. One stanza came without my guitar even with me—"When I make my crossing. When I'm no longer mine. I'll know love's not a metaphor. It's the very time we bide". Incredible place.