Cedar Coppice Becomes a “Third Place” Again: A Year in Bloom Brings Art, Music, and Intention Back Downtown

Focus: History

History isn’t distant—it’s layered, fragile, and alive.
It’s the receipts we keep, the names we collect, the wings that return, and the stories still nesting among us.
This collage is a reminder that preservation is an act of care—and that what we gather today shapes what can be remembered tomorrow.

On a day when many people might have stayed home—tired, busy, or simply moving through the week on autopilot—Cedars Coppice quietly became something more than a coffee shop.

It became a third place: not work, not home, but a space where strangers become familiar, where creativity invites conversation, and where people are allowed to slow down long enough to feel human again.

That was the heart of “A Year in Bloom,” a community gathering hosted at Cedars Coppice—an intentional event designed to help Bastrop start the year with purpose, connection, and a little beauty. The timing mattered, too. With Mardi Gras plans shifting and many residents still craving community, A Year in Bloom offered something gentle but grounding: a reason to come downtown, sit with others, and make something with your hands.

Two Simple Activities—One Big Impact

The event centered on two interactive stations that brought people in quickly and kept them lingering longer than they planned.

The first was the Bloom Wall, where guests selected a leaf cutout, wrote their word of the year, intention, or personal goal, and added it to a growing “tree in bloom.” By the end of the event, the tree was meant to stand full—layered with hope, private promises, and quiet declarations of what people want this year to become.

The second station invited guests to build collage mood boards using magazines, stickers, and found images—an open-ended craft designed to let “your mood take you where it takes you,” as the host described it. The goal wasn’t perfection. It was presence: sitting down, slowing down, talking with people, and letting the creative process loosen what the week had tightened.

“No Resolutions—Just a Word”

During the event, the conversation turned from crafts to personal rituals—especially the ways people mark time and set direction for a new year.

The Mrs. White shared a tradition practiced at home each January: creating a vision-board collage while watching familiar comfort television—less about “New Year’s resolutions” and more about intentional living.

“I don’t do New Year’s resolutions,” the reporter explained. “I feel like it sets me up for failure. Instead, I do a word of the year.”

Past words included Intention and Create. This year’s word was Focus.

And it wasn’t just personal—it was also professional.

Focus on the Future of Cedars Coppice

For Shelby White, owner of Cedars Coppice, the word Focus captures exactly what this season requires: refining the identity of the coffee shop, strengthening community roots, and building something lasting in a town that is growing fast.

“I really do enjoy community, and I want this to be a third place,” White explained. Events like A Year in Bloom were not random add-ons—they were part of a larger direction: a coffee

shop that feeds people and hosts them, a space that makes room for creativity and small-town familiarity.

Focus, she shared, also includes “sloughing off the fluff”—the habits, the distractions, the obligations that no longer serve. It’s about building Cedars Coppice and building herself.

A Soundtrack for the Moment

As guests crafted and talked, live music filled the room—soft enough to let people speak, strong enough to shape the mood.

A featured trio introduced themselves as Coleto Souls, a group rooted in South Austin with personal ties stretching from Georgia to Texas. They played intimate sets designed for close rooms and listening audiences—music that doesn’t compete with community but complements it.

Between songs, the group shared the stories behind their lyrics, including a striking original: “Convenient Christian,” described as a reminder not to seek God only in hardship—but also in ease.

It was the kind of moment that made the room feel honest: a coffee shop full of everyday people, listening to a song about faith, inconsistency, and grace—and nodding because it felt true.

Why It Matters: Community Happens in Moments Like This

In Bastrop, people often say they miss the “small town feel,” even as the city expands and life speeds up.

But small-town community isn’t a feeling—it’s a practice.

It’s recognizing a familiar face when they walk in. Remembering someone’s order before you remember their name. It’s showing up. It’s gathering. It’s making room for conversation that isn’t rushed.

“A Year in Bloom” succeeded because it was simple and intentional. No big production. No pressure. Just a space that welcomed people to sit, create, listen, and talk.

In a growing town, that kind of quiet gathering is not small.

It’s preservation.

It’s culture.

It’s how community survives change—one leaf on the bloom wall at a time.