Stories from The River Runs Through
Coffee. Creativity. Ceremony. The land. Becoming.
And the occasional story about something I probably should have known better than to attempt.
There are stories about the things we make, the things we inherit, the things that surprise us, and the things that change us.
Come wander awhile.
How Ceremony Found Me
I did, sort of, become a wedding officiant accidentally.
Although maybe it's more accurate to say I had a dream and decided, why wait?
The truth is, ceremony found me long before I ever signed the paperwork.
I've always been drawn to ceremony and ritual. They are a big part of what kept me tethered to church long after I'd decided the book of stories was, well... mostly a book of stories.
But I loved what happened around those stories.
I think I first discovered the power of ceremony while preparing for my own First Communion. It wasn't just about wearing a white dress or standing in church. I had a speech to memorize. I learned how to say the Mass. I practiced reading in front of others—skills that felt incredibly important at the time and ones I would rarely ever use again.
Although, looking back, life has a funny way of preparing us for things we don't yet understand.
More than anything, I remember the feeling.
I remember knowing this wasn't just another Sunday. Something important was happening. A moment was being marked. My family would gather. I would step into something new.
It was my first experience of ceremony—the first time I understood that some moments deserve to be witnessed.
How I Accidentally Became a Wedding Officiant
Long before this became The River Runs Through, when it was simply twenty-nine acres, an old farmhouse, and a dream, I had already decided this was going to be a place where people gathered.
Some people dream about gardens.
Some dream about horses.
Apparently, I dreamed about weddings.
I've always been fascinated by them.
The dresses.
The flowers.
The invitations.
The table settings.
The old barns transformed into magical reception spaces.
The traditions.
The symbolism.
The promises.
That's a rather long list, which probably tells you two things.
The First Truly Magical Day
We've had good days at The River Runs Through.
We've had surprising days. Rainy days. "What were we thinking?" days.
Today was different.
Today was the first day that felt...magical.
Ironically, it began with our bathroom.
Happy Summer Solstice!
Summer has officially arrived, it's Father's Day here in the U.S., and we've just completed our third weekend as The River Runs Through Farmhouse Store & Coffee Shop.
The season has certainly started with plenty of rain. That's not entirely foreign to those of us in Maine, though it does seem the sun prefers to come out on days we're closed. Fortunately, we've also been blessed with some beautiful, temperate days in between.
Signs, Signs, Everywhere There's Signs...Week 2
There's an old song that laments the oppressive nature of signs.
Perhaps that's why we didn't put ours out until the day we opened.
After all the planning, building, baking, stocking, painting, planting, and rearranging, it turns out that letting people know you exist is actually an important step in running a business.
Who knew?
We had our soft opening on Saturday and, despite being "officially closed" until tomorrow, we've already felt the love from so many people stopping in. Some of you came intentionally. Some of you were curious. A few of you may have made a wrong turn. Regardless, we're glad you found us.
Honoring the New Moon — A Ritual for Reflection, Intention & Renewal
The New Moon is upon us. Saturday night when you look to the sky there will be darkness. There is something sacred about the dark sky of a new moon.
Unlike the brightness of the full moon, the new moon invites stillness. It is the quiet beginning. A pause. A reset. A moment to return inward before the next cycle of growth begins.
For centuries, cultures around the world have honored lunar cycles as a way of reconnecting to nature, intuition, and the rhythms of life itself. The new moon, in particular, represents rebirth, possibility, and intention. It is the fertile soil before the seed breaks open.
In a world that constantly asks us to move faster, produce more, and stay outwardly focused, honoring the new moon offers something radically healing: space to listen.