Steepletop

Steepletop is not just a place. It is a living thing of its own accord. It was home to Pulitzer prize winning poet Edna St. Vincent Millay and her husband Eugen Boissevain from 1925 until his death in 1949 and hers in 1950. They lived a bohemian life, cultivating their hundreds of acres and holding soirees at the house. The name of the house came for the steeplebush that grew - and still grows - on the property. 

Is it haunted? Most definitely. It sits on its mountain, a mausoleum, preserving a poet's soul and all she owned. It is only opened once a year or so, and I determined to be there for their "Afternoon on a Hill." 

I will be the gladdest thing
    Under the sun
I will touch a hundred flowers
    And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
    With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
    And the grass rise.

We did just that. From being within the house and feeling Millay's essence everywhere...to peering inside her writing cabin...from walking to the "high hill" with its tennis court now covered in thyme and sweeping vistas...to strolling along the poetry trail to the reclusive gravesites.

There was music and wine, but we skimmed the edges, preferring isolation to close communion - we took to heart Vince's homemade painted sign in her library - SILENCE. But even hearing the snippets of conversations proved we were with people of like mind. It was profound to be at "one more soiree at Steepletop."