Linden Row Inn inspires because of its timely elegance. The elegance harkens back to Edgar Allan Poe. “To Helen” speaks of an ethereal garden. In the garden Poe played as a child. History feels different when place is put to it. From the veranda, looking across the courtyard, I saw that same garden.
I am a romantic. Nostalgic, yes, but the reality is money saved without losing comfort. For the poet or banker or couple looking for an enchanting elopement – Linden Row Inn makes sense. You sacrifice nothing.
I checked into my room with ease. I turned the key into the Poe Suite and forgot the world. Everything else – the heft of it, weighty obligations, a life (for me) 8 hours away – gone. At the Linden Row Inn I felt free. It was impossible to stay away from writing,
Writing takes on a tougher skin with my new book. I will not complain about COVID. You’ve heard it. I will say that Linden Row Inn made me feel comforable and safe. All the staff wear masks and masks are mandatory for all who enter. My room was spotless. On my tour I saw the same meticulous care inside and out.
The book, I am writing my third. Mostly done, stuck, a new environment shook bolts loose. Noise from the street was minimal. I never awoke in the night unless it was to bolt back to my keyboard. That happened. It’s been years since that’s happened.
The room opens into sunlight. Tucked away, still you are around the corner from food you’ll talk about with friends at home. My stay with Linden Row Inn provided peace to create, to write from a window where over a century of people stood.
On the coffee table was a collection of Poe’s work. I read it. For much of my time I locked into my new book and vacationed with Poe. For years I pegged the guy as overly-morose. It bothered me why no one pointed out that ravens don’t speak. Not one word. Why the guy didn’t run in terror through the cold rain of night after that bird said, “nevermore,” I’ll never understand.
Then I stopped joking. His prose is striking. Father of the detective story and haunted – he was a rock star from birth to death. After visiting the Poe Museum I learned that many of Poe’s demons were exaggerated by biographies. I reassessed my judgement of him. My trance was never disturbed at Linden Row Inn.
While in town, the music of Vivaldi and Handel hummed fresh from this season’s last perfomance by the Richmond Symphony Orchestra. Culture curves around soft corners and up cobblestone alleys. That music, the breathing energy from it – sacred and real. Live music, safely played, still clings to me.
This is the first blog to highlight my stay in Richmond, Virginia. The drive from Atlanta, Georgia didn’t break me. The landscape is worth travel lag. You lose the drag quickly. Linden Row Inn made my time a pleasure to spend.
This week new days and events get penned. Notes, memories, and words I made there make it here. I pray you’ll stick around to the end.