Serenbe’ing With Nature
Naturalist John Muir said, “Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.” Growing up in nearly rural North Louisiana, I had no shortage of opportunities to get dirty, but having lived the past 15 years in the bustling city of Atlanta, most of the paths my family and I frequent are paved. The opportunity to spread out and be one with nature without the sound of Atlanta traffic, requires a little road trip.
Like so many families living in these uncertain times, our crew is feeling a little crazy. We’ve been conservative with our Covid-19-era outings, our kids’ school has yet to reopen, and after nearly nine months of being cooped up as a family of five + two dogs, we were all suffering from a gnarly case of cabin fever. And while we’re part of of the luckier lot fortunate to have a big fenced lot to run around in, there’s just something about getting out of town that takes the edge of and calm the nerves.
Hoping to avoid much effort and a trip to the funny farm, my husband Matt, our three kids, our nanny and I loaded up in the Odyssey for a day trip to Serenbe, a wellness community and farm 40 minutes from of our house. I’d been to the spot dubbed a “a utopian experiment in new urbanism” by the New York Times years ago for a business planning retreat with Spanx and fondly remember the fresh air and fluffy biscuits. In the years since, I’ve heard rave reviews from friends and clients about everything from the fine dining to the thriving arts scene. But it was a recent Instagram pic of a friend and this month’s Moonlit Mama Rachel Berryman with her family at Serenbe that made it top of mind as an easy, family-friendly outing.
We lucked out with the weather and had our own private petting zoo thanks to the winds of winter storm Zeta that left the entire community powerless. The General Store was the only shop open, so we grabbed sandwiches, chips and strawberry lemonade and plopped down for a picnic next to one of the many trampolines on the property and a giant sandbox. A nice man at the Inn front desk gave us pales filled with what looked to be a tasty trail mix in exchange for a $5 donation per bucket since we weren’t staying on the property. We moseyed up the dirt path, through the many pens feeding the furry and feathered friends alike including social donkeys, frisky goats, really porky pigs, hens, a rooster and even a bull known as a Watusi according to my cowboy stepdad to whom I’d texted a pic.
My husband and our seven-year-old played a game of life-sized chess while our four-year-old repeatedly climbed up the treehouse and slid down and our two-year-old herded sheep who’d escaped their fence. We played a little bocce ball, spotted bird nests and butterflies in the lush garden and wrapped up our visit petting a bucking bronco, a 23-year-old quarter horse named Dolly and a silly black stable cat.
It was a short-yet-perfectly-sweet change of scenery and a much needed escape from our house and our heads. There were no epic fights or meltdowns, and as the name suggests, it was a chance to serenely be with nature and each other without distraction. Maybe next time we’ll hit the Blue-Eyed Daisy bakery and take a trail ride with Dolly. Maybe Matt and I will get away for a spa, wine and food-filled weekend without the kids. Or maybe we’ll do the exact same thing we just did and keep it simple, because isn’t that really the idea?
