Postcard Cabins
I felt that my previous experiences with Getaway would put me in a unique position to experience Postcard Cabins, a getaway built an impressive cross-country trove of outposts with dozens of full-utility cabins in each campground.
Each cabin feels secluded due its positioning overlooking the wilderness, yet there are just enough cabins nearby to not feel isolated. Anything you need is just a call on the old-school red phone away. This glamping experience attracted Marriott, and the international brand of high-end hotels acquired Getaway in late 2024.
Before the changeover, I stayed at Getaway Cabins in extreme cold temperatures (for the southern United States), and I've stayed there in more moderate temperatures, each time with a dog and/or another human. This would be my first experience here since the transition to Postcard Cabins Homochitto and alone. I am reminded of what the Transcendentalist author Henry David Thoreau wrote, "I need solitude. I have come forth to this hill at sunset to see the forms of the mountains in the horizon—to behold and commune with something grander than man." This was the perfect opportunity to see if I could fully unwind from the grind and experience tranquility.
Like its previous incarnation, Postcard Cabins texts you with your cabin name and code before your arrival. I pulled up to Tillie in the late afternoon just as the sunlight was beginning to turn gold. The cabin is idyllic upon entering: cool, amenities neatly organized, and smelling so clean. The verdant view of the picture window reflects a brilliant glow on the inviting bed.
I filled the fridge with a few groceries and pulled down the basket of included goodies, rifling through the treats with excitement. I proceeded to make a hot cup of tea with the provided Tea Pig tea and the kettle (yes, I can drink hot drinks in hot weather). This was the moment I knew that I needed to start the unwinding process. The deck of cards leaning against the stack of literature seemed like a good place to start as the critical thinking about an analog activity would allow me a step down from the work week and driving. I played a few rounds of solitaire with the deck and sipped the steeping tea until I felt my mind begin to relax.
Having had a large meal before arriving and having planned some fire-cooked meals tomorrow, I chose to forgo dinner tonight. However, I made hot chocolate provided by Postcard Cabins to feel cozy as I watched the sky gradually turn off for the night. I inched over to the far side of the big bed, so I gaze upwards through the trees. The stars seemed to move from their spots and start flitting around just outside of the window. It wasn't the stars at all but a troupe of fireflies trying to find each other. The stimulation of seeing them and a sugar buzz did not help me sleep for some time. I pulled down one of the books on the shelf and indulged in some breathing practices until their little lights went out.
A New Day
What a grounding feeling to wake up to bird song and sun rays filtered through trembling tree leaves; the only things to do are the essentials of life itself: eat, drink, rest, shelter. To live deliberately, as Thoreau wrote.
As to that agenda, I made a hot cup of pour-over coffee and cream with the kettle on the electric stove, indulging a few sips before creating a meal. I "created" the stovetop meal with all of the useful wares of Postcard Cabin's kitchen using my leftover restaurant hashbrowns and some veggies and sausage I procured in town on the way in. I took this oddly delicious meal outdoors to watch the creatures stir, readying for their day of foraging.
This is the point of the day when I feel compelled to "work." And if I'm not doing some form of it or (rarely) have nothing to do, I'll create some. It feels a bit unnatural to not have any "work." And this is the true test that Postcard Cabins brings to you, should you choose to accept it. There is no Wi-Fi. There is no television. There is just enough cellular signal to send and receive texts, maybe enough to doom scroll if you go outside. But can you say no to "work" or feeling busy and just exist within nature? It's harder than you think.
On the grounds of Postcard Cabins, there is a trail that meanders among the low grounds. You can remove yourself from the campsite to visit nearby Meadville or travel to Natchez for some home tours or craft beer at Natchez Brewing Company. I opted to combat the anxiety by reading a magazine I bought specifically about living in the present. I utilized meditative practices of not focusing on passing thoughts and noticed more the breeze touching my skin, the birds and insects rustling fallen leaves, and the feel of the paper on my fingertips: a wealth of sensation.
The sun was high, and it was time to start a fire to cook over. I grabbed a bundle of wood and a fire starter from the box and got to work. I had dreamed about recreating a dish that I've made here before and have not had the opportunity to make since: foil packet sausage and veggies. The heavy-duty foil the cabin provides is perfect for this.
The fire started rolling along well as I prepared the meal atop the picnic table. Postcard Cabins provides olive oil in convenient individual packets, salt, and pepper which is all this dish needs. A few curious birds stopped by to see what was going on. I set two foil packs atop the fire ring's cooking grate and let them heat up the contents inside while I enjoyed a cold beer and the sound of the rumbling fire. After some time, the packs were removed and opened; a gust of steam arose from the pierced packs and a wonderful aroma wafted through the fresh air.
I gleefully ate as the fire wilted to embers. I read some more about removing your consciousness from other places and bringing it into the now. A few campers drove by to get to their own cabins for the evening. I wondered if maybe this was their first time and what they would think of it, or perhaps this is somewhere they keep coming back to. It is a glorious respite less than three hours from New Orleans with all of the comforts you need, but under Marriott's ownership, Marriott Bonvoy members can rack up points for their stays here.
After some time just existing, napping, photographing, and reading, it was already time to build another fire for dinner. As I got to work, I noticed that I had some guests. Fireflies started to appear everywhere and all around me. It wasn't even dusk when they started lighting up inches away from, into the woods, twenty feet in the air, and close to the ground. It was abundant and beautiful, impossible to capture on any device. The thing about fireflies is that you can't focus on them. You have to have a wide, open view in hopes that you'll see their spark.
Even after a hearty meal, I was compelled to make s'mores with the kit provided. Vegan marshmallows, milk chocolate squares, and individually-wrapped graham crackers means you can have just one if you want to, even though you'll likely have more. The stillness here means you can really focus on making the perfect s'more, getting the marshmallow charred just right, perfecting the placement of it on the cracker so that it doesn't shift around upon biting into it. It was a rather hot day, but I still wanted to have some hot chocolate with them.
I smelled smokey and woody after all of that firemaking, and I adore that scent. Even after washing, my hair can keep that aroma for a week. I showered and used the shampoo conditioner, and body wash provided. As someone who tries to travel light, having these considerate amenities really makes a difference. There's no convenience store to purchase shampoo at the front desk here if you forget your own here.
Once the fire was fully out and wet, and the fireflies finished their show, I made my way into bed. I wasn't quite where I hoped to be when it came time to sleep because I've gotten accustomed to doom scrolling before bed, a terrible habit for sleep hygiene. Trying to find a substitute, I turned on the cabin's radio, and I quickly found the local NPR station that was broadcasting the Hearts of Space ambient music program. In fact, this show has been going since 1983 and is billed as "slow music for fast times." This calming, strange, contemplative music was perfect for drifting off on the celestial plane to sleep.
A Fresh Start
I had a lazy morning of stretching, breathing, and being, but the gnawing thought of a drive and work after sat in the back of my head. It didn't seem quite as daunting, however. I guess that's the beauty of having a day of serenity backing you up. I made my final cup of pour-over coffee, had some instant oats that Postcard Cabins provided, and headed homeward. I'm reminded of another quote by Henry David Thoreau about this action. He wrote, "I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one."
Postcard Cabins Homochitto is a beautiful way to spend a day, a weekend, or a week. You can do as much or as little as you need to, but you'll certainly feel a little bit different when you're done. There's really only one drawback; you'll want to visit more of them around the country instead of staying inside the busy, loud city that the outposts are near. At least you'll know that there's a comfy, picturesque bed and a great supply of amenities waiting for you when you get to your cabin.
