Gathering In: Autumn at Rostrevor Holidays
As I look out the window, the wild cherry trees are glowing with oranges and reds, still holding a few green leaves. Around them, the others have turned yellow, and the Scots pine needles have come down after Storm Amy, leaving a soft orange carpet that I’ll need to clear later. It’s beautiful, even in the heavy work of tidying up.
The air smells damp and earthy, and there’s a different kind of quiet. Every so often a gust of wind scatters the leaves again, as if the season is reminding me it’s not quite done yet.
This is the time of year when everything slows a little, and people do too.
Guests in Transition
We often get guests who are in transition. Maybe they’ve sold their house and are waiting for the next chapter, or they’re returning home to Rostrevor and waiting for their new place to be ready. Sometimes it’s people heading off on adventures, travelling around Europe before they settle again.
They usually arrive in a rush, still caught in the pace of everyday life. But it’s funny to watch how the place works on them. Within a few days, you can almost see the change, shoulders dropping, breathing slowing, a bit more space in their day. They realise they’ve got time. Time to rest. Time to think. Time to do nothing at all.
Some come with big life changes, a new job, retirement, a fresh start. Others arrive just needing space to breathe. It always amazes me how quickly the place seems to work its way into people’s rhythms. They start walking more, noticing more, resting better.
Creative Retreats and Quiet Work
Others come here with a purpose, a piece of writing, a song, or a project that needs quiet. They use the cottages as their retreat, a place to focus and reconnect. It’s lovely to see what emerges when people give themselves that time.
Something about this landscape seems to open people up. The stillness, the sound of the river, the rhythm of the hills, they give space for ideas to settle and grow. Some guests arrive with plans for a week and end up staying much longer, surprised by how productive they become when there’s room to think.
Evenings and the Turning of the Season
As the evenings draw in, the cottages take on a different kind of warmth. The windows glow softly, the sound of the river carries through the air, and you might hear the wind in the trees or smell the lit home fire. The season gathers people together, around tables, stoves, and stories.
At the end of October, we mark Halloween, or Samhain, as it once was, when the veil between worlds grows thin. It feels fitting. The light softens, the cottages glow, and stories and songs find their way indoors again.
There’s something about autumn that reminds me how change doesn’t always have to be busy or dramatic. Sometimes it’s just the slow settling of things.
Gathering In Before Beginning Again
Here, it happens every year, in the trees, in the air, and in the people who come and go. Every autumn feels both familiar and new. The same trees, the same hills, but never quite the same colours or skies.
Maybe that’s why I love this season so much, it teaches me that slowing down doesn’t mean stopping. It’s just a chance to gather in before beginning again.
