April 20th Mother and I went to Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina for the Festival of Flowers (this year March 31-April 29), something new for us. Not for George Vanderbilt's 250-room French Renaissance chateau, America's largest private residence with four acres of floor space dressed for nineteenth-century entertaining nestled in 8,000 acres of gardens, forests, and farmland, and the most visited winery in the country.
I wanted to treat Mother to the invitation America's largest home gave "to a monthlong garden party celebrating … the glories of spring". Everyone I asked in the last week said we could visit the gardens without paying for the house. That may have been so, once upon a time. I first saw the house when it cost $3.00, in high school, not the Dark Ages. And toured at Christmas time, and in the summertime.
We left at 11:00, and at noon arrived at the impressive entrance, where we had to make a sudden decision: pay for the house and gardens, or see neither. Sigh. How much? $32 for each of us = $64?? I had recently had a mole removed from the sole of my foot. Did they have wheelchairs at the house? "Yes." May I reserve one? "No." First come, first serve. Sigh.
We parked behind the Conservatory at the gardens and ambled through the greenhouse wings, admiring the central Palm House graced with multitudes of Easter lilies, the Orchid Room and Cool House sheltering temperate plants, the Hot House with its sun-loving tropicals, and the Exhibition Room with an exhibition of Mexican plants.
Port St. John's Creeper (Podranea ricasolina) from South Africa inspired me to start taking pictures. At the Azalea Garden entrance 200 snapshots later, no more diskettes. Into the car goes the exhausted camera bag. Then we see hummingbirds!!!
After visiting the magnificent home George Vanderbilt opened the doors to family and friends in 1895, we snacked in the mid-afternoon sun on the Bake Shop's cheddar cheese and broccoli croissant, blueberry muffin, cream puff, and latte (to the stirring total of $16). For dinner we headed over to the Deerpark Restaurant. Closed for renovations. We tried the Bistro at the Winery. No dinner reservations? At 7 p.m. we were too hungry to wait around an hour for a table and headed to the Harbor Inn, where we enjoyed a good supper.
About 9 p.m. we arrived back home, a full 10 hours of spring surprises sprung on us. P.S. "only $27" would have upgraded that day's ticket to a Twelve Month Pass--what a deal! Maybe March 30-April 28 next year? For now we share these memories, inviting you to a closer look at 20 frames, our best of the best. We archived another 80 good ones, and 40 that are not so good but not so bad. We dutifully noted that "photography, videotaping, and sketching are NOT allowed in the house".
Poetry I wrote this week:
Some Things Go Either/Or...
Rise from the ground one day,
Sweet-smelling like the Easter lily
Bright with glorious trumpet blooms.
Its relatives’ scent can cause weeping.
Onion, garlic, leek, and lily are all alliums.