At Pierson’s Place

Pierson’s Place. Richmond, Massachusetts. © By Paul Goldfinger. Left click for full view.

Photographer’s note: If you go to the Berkshires in Massachusetts, near Tanglewood, there are lots of old B and B’s. Our friend Dick and his wife Luisa used to stay at Pierson’s Place, an old house, sort of ramshackle, with a large barn in the back where the kids could play and even sleep.

Mrs. Pierson would make breakfast each morning — nothing fancy like some places where they serve Eggs Benedict. Dick is an internist, now retired, who also is a pianist. His wife Luisa is an artist, so they’re the sort of people you run into at Pierson’s Place.

Eileen and I went there a few times. During the day you could visit farmers’ markets or historic attractions or towns in the area such as Lenox and Stockbridge. You could also wander the grounds of the Tanglewood Music Festival where the peaks of the Berkshires give off vapors in the morning. You can listen to a rehearsal in the afternoon and then picnic on the great lawn, under the stars, while enjoying the magnificence of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

One morning I got up and meandered around the property at Pierson’s Place. There’s something about those cool mornings in the mountains as the new sun ripples across everything that’s still wet with dew and crisscrossed with leftover shadows.

I looked at the old house and the barn. There were flowers all around, and you could touch them, but not pick them. That’s what Mrs. Pierson did before everyone came down for breakfast.

As I walked about, I came upon an old garage where I was startled by the eye of a creature peering out at me. It seemed alive even after I  moved closer and identified it. The big red eye belonged to an old English sports car that was just itching to roar out of there onto the country roads.   — Paul Goldfinger

SOUNDTRACK:   Bob Dylan’s  “New Morning.”