This morning I walked through Saint Nicholas Park to Hamilton Grange. As I stepped inside the gift shop’s entrance, hidden under the large outdoor staircase, I was surprised to be greeted by a woman in a park ranger uniform manning the welcome desk. I knew the grange was a historical site, but I wasn’t aware of how formal it was.

I followed the smell of wood and dust  up the narrow staircase to the “period rooms”, where the first thing I noticed were the boldly patterned tiles, and the undeniable tilt of the second floor. The rooms reminded me of a pre-colonial estate turned museum in Garrison, New York, with bright carpeting that matched the color scheme of each room, but always clashed with that of the room adjacent. The exhibit floor was smaller than I expected, and because of the tall windows, it was fairly bright. For some reason, I warmed up to the building much more than other preserved, historically significant, vacation homes that seem lavish in comparison.

It was difficult for me to imagine what the plot of land would have looked like without Harlem bustling around it. On my walk back I tried, but the tops of stone buildings were distracting as they poked through the leafless tree line, and I figured, for me at least, the idea was lost in time.