My Own Muse: Hot Date With Myself, No. 3, Mohonk Mountain Preserve

After being cast-aside by my boyfriend like some crumpled candy wrapper, I endured the beginning of my summer of 2017 in a state of heightened melancholy. I mean, I went all-out weeping, moaning, gnashing my teeth– the full gamut. But, by July I was truly bored with myself as a driveling lump, mourning the loss of a moron who was too shallow to enjoy my company in the first place. I mentally retired my mourning blacks, and metaphorically transitioned into mourning purples. I was ready to move on. It was time to take myself on 100 hot dates!

MM7

For hot date number three, I was determined to release any pent-up anguish and emotion with a brisk hike at the Mohonk Preserve, NY.  The foremost emotion which I needed to expel from my body was an innate urge to find my ex-boyfriend in Florida, and punch him square across the jaw; But, not wanting to bruise my knuckles, or exert so much time and effort pursuing this line of violence and mal-intent, I forgot about the cheating bonehead, and strapped on my little red hiking boots!

MM12

The Mohonk Mountain Preserve originated with two brothers, Alfred and Albert Smiley, who purchased Lake Mohonk, along with 280 surrounding acres, in 1869. The property contained a ten-room inn, called Stokes Tavern, which was expanded upon by the Smiley family to accommodate 40 guests, in 1870. Over the next few decades, the Smiley family continued to build, tear-down, and re-build additions onto the original Mountain House, until it reached the grandiose state that it exists in today. A rather haphazard, yet lovely structure, the Mountain House boasts a lot of character.

 

MM4            MM6

In 1963, the Smiley Family and passionate supporters formed the Mohonk Trust to protect the area’s jaw-droopingly gorgeous natural landscape for future generations to enjoy, and the area became a Preserve in 1978. Fast forward to 2017, I am so thankful for this sequence of events. After a month of feeling like a loveless slug, I needed the Shawangunk Mountain range and the beauty of the Mohonk Preserve to absolve me of my slimy soul.

MM3

On the morning in July which I determined to visit the Mohonk Mountain Preserve, I noted a nebulous mass of black clouds overwhelming the horizon. Driving towards the ominous mass on Rt. 44/55, I felt a kindred connection to the hulking cumulonimbus clouds. We were both brooding, both moody, both in the humor for a storm. This gigantic cloud and I were of the same ilk! As soon as I parked, and stepped out of my car, the storm cloud greeted me with silvery, cool rain drops, which broke over my warm skin like a friendly hello. Nice to meet you, storm! Let’s go for a hike!

MM11

As the rain persisted, I set out on a trail which led to the Albert K. Smiley fire tower. The steam and mist which enveloped the trail was very sexy, and I cannot lie when I say that I was seduced by the sight of this. Being only one of two people brave enough to walk through sheets of warm, wet summer precipitation, I enjoyed my romantic walk up the hill to the tower in solitude.

MM9

Here is where the hike gets good. When I reached the fire tower, and climbed up to the observation deck, the storm clouds broke, and a gigantic crepuscular ray sliced through the grey mists, illuminating the Shawanunk mountain range in a chiaroscuro manner.  As if the storm and I were on the very same page, we both allowed the sunlight to break-through our gloomy temperament at the very same moment. As the storm cloud and I were alone at the top of this mountain, we shared a moment of glimmering happiness together. Perhaps the cute little cumulonimbus cloud was going through a bad break-up, too! Undoubtedly, some wispy cirrostratus just didn’t understand the depths of the cumulonimbus spirit.

MM8

I watched the sun stroke its luminous hand across the mountain range, commanding mist to rise from the green forest floor. Like a veil of love, the vapors danced towards my new friend, the cumulonimbus cloud. Oh, god, we were both enraptured by this sight. What a steamy hot date with myself, indeed!

MM10 MM

 

 

 

 

Standard

My Own Muse: Hot Date with Myself, No. 2, Blithewood Garden, Red Hook, NY.

After climbing out of the metaphorical blackened crevasse of an ugly break-up in June, I decided that it was high time that I surfaced for some sunshine. Don’t get me wrong, living as a troglodyte for one month had its benefits. I finished reading my collection of Regency-era romance novels, and binge-watched Korean dramas for four weeks straight, increasing my boob-tube stamina and romantic acuity. However, by the time July rolled around, I knew what I had to do. I would take myself on 100 hot dates.

b9

For date number 2, I rounded-up a selection of the finest cheeses (from my comprehensive personal refrigerator collection), and stopped at a local farm-stand for some fruit. My life brimming with cheese, and heart overflowing with cholesterol, I strolled over to the Blithewood Mansion and Garden, on the Bard campus, Red Hook, NY.

b5

Now, if you’re as much of a romantic as I am, you’ll know that cheese does not inspire sentiments of love and enchantment unless it’s consumed in the proper setting. To achieve this illusion of fromage amour, I traveled with a cheese laden bag to the breathtaking Italian sunken gardens of Blithewood Mansion. The garden was constructed circa 1903 as an extension of the Georgian-style Blithewood mansion, constructed circa 1900 for Captain Andrew C. Zabriskie and his wife Francis. Both the garden and the mansion were designed by Francis L.V. Hoppin, of the Hoppin and Koen Architectural firm, adhering to the conventions of Romanticism which influenced the Gilded Age home.

b3

At the time that I visited the garden, the rain had just subsided, and the sun began to glisten over the sopping wet flowers and walled structures of the garden. Sitting on a marble (or limestone) bench in the garden, I looked towards a sliver of the Hudson River, visible through a parting in the trees. With a mouth full of St. Agur cheese, I turned to look over my shoulder, and was rewarded with a vision of a double rainbow arcing over Blithwood mansion.

b8

Perhaps it was the effect of massive amounts of brie and agur entering my body all at once, but at the sight of this, my heart skipped a beat. Love flooded my veins. These are the moments that are best shared alone, on a date with yourself, smelling of fermented dairy and oxytocin. Between the natural beauty of the garden, and my full stomach, I was content that hot date number 2 with myself had been a complete success. I was falling in love!

b6 copy  b7

Standard