Aromas is small-town friendly, and residents like it that way.

All day Saturday, I felt like I was in “Mayberry” —in a good way. I kept expecting to see Andy and Barney and Opie. Aunt Bea, this town was made for you.

The place is Aromas, population 2,700, where last weekend artists there and in San Juan Bautista and Hollister opened their studios—their homes, really—to the public.

Though about 30 miles northeast of Monterey, and straddling three counties—Monterey, San Benito and Santa Cruz—Aromas seems a world away. Granted, it’s not a small town in the middle of nowhere—San Jose is just up Highway 101 and the median annual household income is $85,000. (Many professionals live here and commute to jobs elsewhere). But a first-time visit to this off-the-beaten-path town was like a mini retreat—close enough to home, yet far away in spirit—and a bit like stepping back in time.

Soon after exiting 101, high-speed traffic, fast-food restaurants and mini malls gave way to slower-speed open roads, grazing farm animals and blossom-perfumed bucolic settings. Driving along the main street into downtown, and on numerous back roads and “no-through” streets to reach the studios, I slowly relaxed, my mind stopped racing and my stress diminished. If that fits the stereotype of small-town life’s slower pace, I embraced it and let it envelop me. I forgot about work, forgot about bills, forgot about, well, almost everything, except my mission to find some great art.

People here know their neighbors, even though many houses are on large lots and far apart. They look out for and support each other. They’ve organized to keep the post office, a main social spot, from being sold and closed, possibly to be replaced by a trailer.

“That is why we like it here so much, because we know everybody,” says Coldwell Banker agent Roberta Annett. “You walk downtown and say hi to 10 people before you’re done.”

Entertainment can be found at the Grange Hall. Last Saturday it was “Aromas Live,” a variety show featuring music, comedy and commentary. Entertainment also takes form in everyday life: one resident walks her llamas down the street and no one thinks twice. OK, that may be more “Northern Exposure” than Mayberry, but it’s enchanting nonetheless.

Gail Mutoza sits in her garage, making her exquisite silver jewelry, trying new techniques and letting her sense of design run free. Her creations invariably garner compliments for the wearer.

To Mutoza, the joy is in the creative process. Making things, she says, is in her DNA; though when she first started her art, it was to help make ends meet as a single mom living in Silicon Valley.

She is modest about her skills, but proud that one of her works, a weighty silver fish necklace, won first place in a competition at Woman Made Gallery in Chicago. (I confess I bought it.)

She has other admirers. When former Mexican president Vicente Fox and his wife, Marta Sahagún, were in Carmel last fall, Sahagún snapped up five pieces at a gallery.

Actress and rehab habitué Lindsay Lohan owns one of Mutoza’s handmade silver chains. She wears it as a belt.

I tell Mutoza I’ve always wanted to take a jewelry-making class.

“I’d be happy to teach you what I know,” she volunteers. For free.

Stained-glass artist Linda Bjornson makes beautiful, custom windows and smaller individual pieces.

Checking out her work and chatting with her at her house/studio, I say I’ve heard that someone walks a llama through the town.

“That’s me,” she says, leading me to an open back door to point out her pets, “Amigo,” and “Nacho” in a backyard pen up a hill.

“They are great brush eaters, they keep the fire danger down,” she says, producing photos showing that she also uses both animals to carry supplies on camping trips.

Last Saturday, she was trying to finish a work featuring a large calla lily that was to be ready for the open studios event, but she got behind. One customer bought a lovely piece depicting a mermaid catching a tow from a dolphin.

“I felt like I had entered a time warp when I first moved here,” Bjornson says, adding that the sentiment has increased with time.

“There’s a real sense of community that a lot of people are looking for but feel like it doesn’t exist. But it does. The sense of anywhere you go in town, you run into someone you know.”

She says she allows an extra 15 to 20 minutes for talking time when she goes into town.

This enclave boasts about 50 members of the Aromas Hills Artisans, which won a 2008 champion of the arts award from the Arts Council of Monterey County.

At monthly meetings, artists bring their work and seek guidance and feedback.

I admit to dabbling in mosaics. Bjornson invites me to the next meeting.

Again, it sounds like Mayberry—in a good way.