one night in tyringham.

we spent our first night in the berkshires in tyringham. as soon as i saw the sweet silo cottage we'd be staying in, i knew this town would be good to us.

the silo cottage is perched on santarella estate. the red house on the property dates to the 1740s and in the 1920s, the sculptor who then owned the estate began work to transform the barn and an old grain silo into his workspaces.

we hansel & gretel-ed around the property all afternoon, marveling at the endless enchanting details, all appearing as though straight from a storybook -- arched doorways, stacks of firewood, whimsical gardens, a resident barn cat. our hostess greeted us with a chilled bottle of champers and a bouquet she'd plucked from the garden as though to say, cheers, young lovers!

we ventured up the hill to becket for supper at the dreamaway lodge. the two hundred year old farmhouse was a speakeasy during the great depression and a 1970s hangout of bob dylan, joan baez, and allen ginsberg. wild horses couldn't have kept us from stopping in. we feasted on red wine and steak and lemon pudding; we basked in live music and local mythology. it was a grand ol' time. 

and with that, we were off to the woods!

weekend in the trees.

we took to the woods to welcome chris' last year of his twenties. waking up to chilly mountain air, the wind whipping the birch trees, and autumn's first painted leaves was a dream. all the while, john muir's words danced in my head --

keep close to nature's heart...and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. wash your spirit clean.

we passed our days simply. we read books on the deck, dipped our toes in the cold water, canoed in the september sunshine, shared pistachios on the banks of hayes pond, walked in the trees, picked wildflowers for our table, filled our lungs with pristine air, pinned our laundry on the line to dry, and cozied up each night by a fire crackling in the hearth. we listened to john denver on repeat. we talked, really talked, with each other. we sipped french press in the morning and bubbly in the afternoon. we didn't lay eyes on another human for days. on my love's twenty ninth birthday, i baked a cake and he made a wish and we shared slices before supper, before the sun went down.

we often daydream of finding a cottage in the trees and raising babes on sunshine and a bit of earth. but for now, days such as these are surely treasured. i wouldn't mind spending every weekend this way. i wouldn't mind it one bit.