I had about an hour to myself in the yard across the street from Millay's residence. I didn't mind, believe me!! I soaked everything in, slowly.
Memories - digging back into the months of 2013 there are many memories I want to hold onto: this is what I am asked to share for today's Reverb13 prompt.
I go back into last Spring and remember meeting my long-time online/teleclass friend, Elli, who lives in upstate New York. It was a side trip when I was visiting my daughter in Northampton, Massachusetts. I loved getting to know her even more, enjoying her hospitality and looking out the window of her home.
After visiting I found my way to probably the biggest surprise of my trip: a visit to Edna St. Vincent Millay's home, Steepletop, in Austerlitz, New York. I was driving through the tiny hamlet on a two lane country road and thought it sounded so familiar and then I saw it, a historic marker sign.
I pulled over and sure enough, it spoke of Millay and her home, but there was no home in sight. Naturally I had no reception there on my cell phone, so I drove back into the nearest town, did a google search, and called the Millay Society. I was shocked beyond shocked when someone actually answered the phone.
You can see Edna St. Vincent Millay's house on the hill over my shoulder in the photo above. I have said I wish I had thought to put lipstick on, but just being at this place muted all conscious thought beyond... the incredible woman she was - one of the first women Pulitzer Prize winners. She beat T.S. Elliot, which really made famous misogynist Ezra Pound really mad but that's another blog post for another day.
At the end of the afternoon I had experienced a personal tour of Steepletop. It was a one-on-one adventure into the life of Millay. I was on a creative high, bursting at the seams. Peter, who showed me around, suggested I take the short hike to the gravesites as well as a spot that had a tremendous view but I told him I was afraid I would overload myself.
Millay's photo resides over the cozy office at Steepletop. I loved the fresh Forsthia on the table. The last snow stubbornly sat, unmelted, on the ground.
When Peter recited a poem, I cried.
When he opened a drawer holding her purses and hankies, I put my face toward it and inhaled the scent and cried.
When he asked questions and I had the answer, I cried at least once.
It was a sacred experience I will always, always, always remember.
During the weekend we visited Harriet Beecher Stowe's home which was also remarkable, but after the time one-on-one at Steepletop I had experienced perfection.
Yes, there are many other "smaller" memories that make my heart sing. I consistently dip into the moment, the right here and now - and I am grateful I write them down and hold them close, time after time after time.
My memory brings those memories back so I may enjoy and savor them.
Steepletop changed me.
I am forever grateful.
=====
Check out the prompt today for the specific wording and ways to connect by visiting 
KatMcNally.com.
=====
Julie Jordan Scott is a writer, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist. Her word-love themed art will be for sale at First Friday each month in Downtown Bakersfield. Check out the links below to follow her on a bunch of different social media channels, especially if you find the idea of a Word-Love Party bus particularly enticing.
Please stay in touch: Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot
Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook. (Thank you!)
Follow on Instagram
And naturally, on Pinterest, too!
© 2013 - Julie Jordan Scott - all rights reserved.
