The Spirit of the Berkshires

The winds soughing through the quick changing trees of autumn, the somber and abiding scrutiny of the hills to the south, the welcoming lawns sloping down to the playing fields or neglected apple grove, the thickly forested retreat of the solitary path to the north of the school, the winter snow everywhere challenging, the stunning clarity and mystery of the stars, the shock of the cold and then the welcoming green springtime that always seemed late, those countless days walking alone, thinking and dreaming and meditating, on the official days of silence, never quite alone in the omniscient New England landscape.

Pax vobiscum,
John Francis Holland
BellefontaineIHM 1963-1967