Mussel Beach
By David Scribner
LEE
When I was a tiny bivalve – much tinier that I am now and full of the hope, vigor and innocence of youth – growing up in an overcrowded impoverished community overseas – I dreamed of living in the Berkshires.
Among our kind, the Berkshires’ pastoral beauty of unspoiled lakes, expansiveness of environment, cultural opportunities – where else in the world could you drift on Stockbridge Bowl and hear the strains of Beethoven whisper in the wind — and, above all, generous nature of its inhabitants who seemed to pride themselves on their liberal acceptance of diversity, were legend, a vision of paradise. The Berkshires were destination of desirable destinations but a refuge that a poor creature such as myself could hardly expect to reach.