A curve drawn in one movement becomes a pathway on a hillside. Walk slowly on a spring morning. The cherry trees are blooming. A woodpecker drums in the wood over the hill. The path turns with each step, toward the lake in the valley, toward the wooded slope above it. […]Read article
Charles Neville was playing New Orleans jazz on Edith Wharton’s terrace. It was a summer night, and his saxophone lifted its voice while children run on the grass.
He lived here, not far from her garden, where contemporary poets read their work. In the Berkshires, many people and communities make one, like streams and springs running across the slopes into to the Housatonic.
People live and build and transform. Spoken word poets, bhangra dancers on a college stage, a young theater company singing Fun Home in a tavern — people celebrate who they are. And the community comes together to honor them.