We spent many of our Thanksgivings in the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts at our family home in Great Barrington and later in our place nearby in Monterey, MA on Lake Buel.
     

     In terms of timeframe, we were there from the 1960s until the year 2000, an era that included the famous American artist Norman Rockwell who lived nearby in Stockbridge.
     Rockwell, who died in 1978, painted small town life featuring real people from all over the Berkshires for the covers of a magazine called The Saturday Evening Post.
     Rockwell immortalized the time capturing the scene, from the town center bandshells to the folks in the Barbershop to maybe his most famous work; the Town Cop and a little boy sitting on stools at Joe’s Coffee Shop in Lee, MA.
     Truth be told, “Life in The Berkshires” was idyllic from the summer all the way to when the snow was flying and the skiers ruled from Butternut Basin in Barrington to Bousquet Mountain in Pittsfield to Catamount Mountain in Egremont, MA.
     And apparently for some others capturing that spirit of the Berkshires on canvas and paper was a popular pastime.
     Our oldest son Geoffrey learned to ski at Otis Ridge, a local, simple hill with a rope tow near our home in Monterey.
     When Geoffrey was ten he painted this picture for his Nana.
     The Berkshires are, and were a place of beauty and culture drawing people all year around.
     Many people from New York and New Jersey own vacation homes in the Berkshires.
     In Manhattan, New York City it is said that whilst Eastsiders getaway to The Hamptons of Long Island, Westsiders go to the Berkshires.
     At Tanglewood, summer home of the Boston Symphony the great conductors were in residence, including the late Leonard Bernstein who held sway all summer long. Later Seijii Ozawa made Tanglewood his summer address. Today the Concert Hall at Tanglewood is dedicated to him, the great Japanese conductor of the Boston Symphony.
     During high season, especially in late August, the Shed where the orchestra rehearsed was filled with musicians whilst the forest surrounding us all was filled with crickets.
     Often they would join in the festival with their buzzing sound riding up and down on the wind, as the music played on.
     Our kids went to summer camp over at Stockbridge Bowl during those golden days of Summer.
     On Saturdays we operated a hot dog wagon in front of our First Congregational Church in Great Barrington.
     The Massachusetts Congregationalists wrote the Bill of Rights after landing on Plymouth Rock in Eastern Massachusetts in 1620.
     Or did Plymouth Rock land on them?
     On Wednesday Pastor Van, our shepherd through the spiritual experience came for dinner. PV (the endearment the people gave him) would tip a glass and never insist on anything except that my wife Sabiha be allowed to be a Muslim most welcome as an integral part of the Congregation at First Church.
     Thanksgiving is going away my favorite holiday.
     The reason is simple.
     All you gotta do is show up for dinner.
     Yes, of course sometimes if getting together with family is challenging, some rules of engagement may be necessary.
     But what a relief not to have to buy anything, do anything, or even say very much.
     Maybe pitch in and help. Pour a drink; build a fire, turn on the television or turn up the music.
     Hooray for the pumpkin pie!
     Our musical offering here has tunes that evoke special memories as we listen to them play. Our hope is you will find some enjoyment as well. Click here to listen.
     As we count our blessings and think about our family and friends everywhere, we wish you dear reader, peace and goodwill at this time.
     Happy Thanksgiving.
Geoffrey