The Stevens-Coolidge House & Gardens in North Andover, MA is situated on a former farm that became a summer country estate in 1914 to one of Isabella Stewart Gardner‘s nephews, John Gardiner Coolidge, and his wife Helen Stevens-Coolidge. They vacationed and entertained at the estate until Helen’s death in 1962, when she bequeathed the house and the land to the Trustees, a non-profit that has been working for over 125 years to act as “a steward of distinctive and dynamic places of both historic and cultural value” across Massachusetts. Spring BloomFest is an annual celebration of the flowering of 165,000 tulips and various bulbs, ornamental trees, and other plants that come alive in April and May. Due to the pandemic, they had limited availability and were only allowing guests in who had purchased timed entries. I reserved our spots for today about a month ago in a member pre-sale. They are completely sold out (22 days, with 18-20 slots per day). At this early stage, the Hyacinths and Daffodils are blooming. We are told that the Tulips begin to open next weekend, so make your choice on what you want to see when making your reservation for next year. I hope you enjoy these photos:
On the way home, we also stopped into the Charles W. Ward Reservation, another Trustees property just a few miles south in Andover. We took the shortest trail that wound up the hill through some gorgeous old-growth forest to a grassy green opening (420 foot elevation) where you can see the Boston skyline 30 miles to the south. Having visited Stonehenge, the former owner of the land decided she needed her own stone compass to mark the sunrise and sunsets on the Summer and Winter Solstices as well as the Vernal and Autumnal Equinoxes. She also added Zodiac stones around the edge, many of them with ties to the local history. One of the stones is from the doorstep of a historic pub, there are two fossilized/petrified tree stumps, and several of them are local puddingstone. The center of the “compass” is an old granary grinding stone, whose etched curves mimic the sun.
South by South East
The “Solstice Stones” from the West
True North
Boston in the distance, 30 miles away to the South
Today (22 September 2016) is the Autumnal Equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere (Happy Spring to those of you on the other side of the equator!). Here in Salem, some neo-pagans are celebrating Mabon, nearby rural farmers are celebrating the Second Harvest, city dwellers are celebrating Pumpkin Spice Everything, and those of us who love the briskness of the Fall are eagerly anticipating sweater and cider weather!!
Late harvest in the Apple orchard. Mmmm…cider donuts and apple pie!
I remember when I was in college (quite awhile ago), walking quickly through campus one day. I happened to look up at the side of the building before heading in through the stage door and stopped, in shock. The building was always covered in ivy, but at that moment it was a bright and vibrant red. I looked around, and sure enough, the trees were all shades of orange and yellow and tawny ocher. I had been so busy and so preoccupied with classes and rehearsals that I had completely missed the changing of the seasons. I made it a point to pay more attention, especially when the following Spring arrived and the flowers and trees came into bloom. After all, we are always hearing the advice to “Stop and smell the roses.” Well, stop and enjoy the other changes, too!
Somewhere between that moment and the period we know as adulthood, with all of its similar trappings of hurrying through life without looking up, I had forgotten that lesson. It popped-up again a few years ago, but in a more profound and succinct way for me. I had taken my car off the road for a year and decided to commute to work on the train. Our condo is steps from the Salem station, and my office was a 1/2 mile walk from the Gloucester station (Cape Ann is a beautiful place to visit). For the first 10 months I rode the train like everyone else: head down, staring at my phone. One morning, I happened to look up and catch a view out the window that could almost have been staged; it was so perfect, and it took my breath away. I had to write it down immediately.* It was an epiphany, of sorts, and a reminder. I’ve never taken it for granted again.
October 26, 2012 8:47am:
There is beauty in this world.
I can commute along the same route
Day after day reading or playing on my phone
But once in awhile (less often than I’d like, but more than I feel comfortable with) Nature tugs on my sleeve and exclaims:
“Look what I have done for you!
You are on your way to sit at a desk indoors, glued to a screen and wired into the counterfeit world, and you are spending your time giving all of your attention o a smaller window (bane of society) into that false world.
I am putting on my best colors for you!
Look now and you will see a buck and doe fleeing into the umber forest.
Even though we are separated by a sheet of glass and you are traveling by me at a fast speed in a version of a machine that has choked and destroyed me for ____ years, look out and appreciate me.
See how I have made the waters calm and smooth to mirror the beauty of my autumn colors and to expand the sky beneath you.
See how each neighboring tree can burst in vibrant or subdued hues next to one another and be beautiful.
Not everyone can be a flaming red Maple, but see how I have given beauty to even the dullest of brown trees?”
This speech from Nature probably would have continued, but I was pulling-in to my station and needed to get to work. Perhaps I will stop to listen again and She will tell me the rest of the story. Perhaps you can finish it and tell me what you’ve heard.
Anyway, I just thought I’d share it here to remind myself to stop and take a moment to notice the world around me, and maybe to inspire you to do the same.
So go. Take a moment to enjoy the change of seasons.
Take a moment away from the computer/phone/tablet (after you read this, of course).
Take a breath.
Live life.
Repeat.
Enjoy.
(In looking for photos to show the view, I stumbled on this site with gorgeous professional shots of Cape Ann and some foliage by Elinor Teele. I don’t know her, but the photos are stunning.)
*Full disclosure: I then went right back to looking at my phone, as it was the only place I could write this down as it was happening. Since then, I have tried to keep a small pocket-sized journal and pen with me, but that is not always practical. My phone is full of notes and reminders, and (for better or worse) it’s always with me.