It’s the land of Sleepy Hollow, of the stately homes of families like the
Rockefellers, Roosevelts, and Vanderbilts. It’s where weary city dwellers
flee, lugging their books and unfinished projects, to historic villages
with shady streets dotted with antique shops. It’s horse country. The
aura is slightly bohemian, slightly old money, and just a tad haunted.