Lady on the Hill
No trip to the mountains of NC is complete without a trip to the Biltmore! I love this place, from it's overwhelming size and stature to its grace and modern (even by today's standards) structure, to its immaculately preserved interiors, with original furnishings, fine art from masters now long gone, and stunning views - this is truly the estate to visit. The landscape surrounding the Biltmore is bucolic and sedate, rolling hills and trees of every color. The river flows in the distance, seen from a quiet spot on the summer porch. Estate cattle graze in the valleys while the clip of horses can be heard over the drone of the parking lot shuttles. The home-grown vineyards give way to delightful wines that can be sampled and enjoyed in the tasting rooms south of the Estate, if you can beat the weekend tourists!
However, standing in the entry hall of the Biltmore estate, I don't feel like a tourist. I've been here enough that I feel like a guest. And if I allow my gaze to go blurry, focusing on nothing in particular, all the hustle of commerce and chatter fading away, and I can almost see the Vanderbilts as they lived then. Huge parties of people, talking and hurrying to change for dinner, servants scurrying with laden platters full of food from animals and crops raised on the premises. Later, the splash of small children in the basement in ground pool, the giggle of a young girl darting from corridor to corner, eluding her brother. Better yet, the giggle of a young woman, darting from corner to corridor, pretending to elude her young man! I can hear the laughter, smell the roasting meat, feel the mountain breeze coming in through the windows and doors thrown wide to the sweeping, panoramas of the lush, fertile land. The faint echo of the pianoforte haunts the halls, The smell of old wood, worn leather and cigars still lingers in the library. Fires dance and blaze in the enormous hearths in the grandiose dining hall, table set for 100.
The sound of the organ brings me back to reality, set to play "player piano" style, it fills the lower floors of the house with cheerful music, chasing away the ghosts of so many years ago. Or keeping time with them.
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