I convey this brief post on the evening we arrived home from our Berkshires week of hiking, arting, feasting, laughing, exploring, wildflowering, birding, treeing… all to the tune of brooks, streams and rivers, and the leitmotifs of mostly invisible birds.
These lively pictures were taken by Jeanette Hooban, one of the Intrepids, as NJWILDBEAUTY readers well know.
My fellow author of the book on Stuart Country Day School’s fifty years, Carolyn P. Yoder, has become an official Intrepid — our heroic driver who wrote immediately upon return to say, “fabulous, just fabulous,” adding, “everything was so easy, even the driving.” No one in my experience has deemed the negotiation of the NYSTATE Thruway from Troy to nearly Somerville, ‘easy’.
Both Carolyn and Jeanette are always ready for anything. They don’t bat an eye, for example, when trail maps, such as those from the Clark Art Institute, turn out to be misleading, wrong and just plain infuriating. “More time on the trails,” they sang out, as we trundled on.
Our birding was mostly by ear — especially exuberant oven birds of the Hopkins Forest Trail maintained (and well mapped and signed and blazed) by Williams College. At one point, alongside a wildly twisting stream, we heard the few unmistakable notes of the almost-never-encountered bob-white.
I don’t trust words tonight. And it’s beyond me to upload my own pictures. Jeanette’s will serve as appetizer, partly metaphorically, and partly in reality, in the interim.
One of the main reasons we go there is the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute.
This is my all-time favorite Renoir. It turns out to have been Sterling Clark’s as well. Eat your heart out, Barnes Foundation!
Our favorite work there, bar none, is Ghirlandaio’s lady with a red dress. If Jeanette has an image of that, I’ll add it. Or find on line. But not tonight. This aristocratic Florentine remains vividly gracious, across all those centuries.
Another major reason for the Berkshires is hiking. You’ll get that post when my pictures are uploaded or downloaded – could someone explain the difference.
In between hikes and arts, we feasted:
In more ways than one:
Coyote Flaco was a first for all of us. It’s on Route 7 north on the left-hand side heading into town. We were welcomed like royalty, even though it was MOTHERS’ DAY! evening. We were graciously seated outside, beneath vivid umbrellas, at the edge of a babbling brook (which also ran alongside our motel, a little farther along Route 7.) A steep hill, completely forested rose directly from the brook, which never stopped singing.
The vivid, most exciting food is Mexican and Spanish, with exquisite sauces, tropical beauty, exciting yet subtle flavors, and lashings of lobster.
The Staff so welcoming, as though we were their long-lost relatives, at last come to town.
Wonderful people, murmuring with delight, filled the indoor rooms. We could savor vivid delicacies in a timelessness not known by any of the three of us in our complex professional lives in Princeton. At the end, the Staff GAVE us their three signature desserts.
And THREE ROSES, still velvety and fragrant, as we reluctantly drove south on 7 this morning.
Stay tuned for other Berkshire miracles, and some from Hyde Park, in quest of Eleanor, of course.