Category Archives: Vermont

Changing Worlds

The cold, my old familiar friend, sweeps back. Carrying out a bucket of hot ashes from the woodstove in the early morning, I stand for a moment in the gusting wind. Is snow falling or merely blowing? Inside, the cats … Continue reading

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Winter Dreaming

I found a paper butterfly on my car windshield yesterday afternoon — a gift, I’m guessing, from a local child. My youngest and her friend, dreaming of summer and drivers’ licenses, create a plan of mountains to hike. While a … Continue reading

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Small Journey

My younger daughter drives the two of us on a cold January afternoon to Montpelier. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to the state capital, although (pre-pandemic) I was in Montpelier at least once a week. We’re in … Continue reading

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Border Crossings

On inauguration eve, I dream of wandering through my childhood hometown and wake thinking of the November morning four years when I woke early and realized I would have to tell my daughters that Donald Trump won the presidency. Four … Continue reading

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Getting With The Program…

A few days of snow and rain and slush and scattered sunlight — mid-January in Vermont when the snow-heavy woods are enchanting. Again, drinking coffee in our Subaru while my youngest daughter drives. These mid-winter days are wound through with … Continue reading

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Strangers’ Laughter

I step out of our house just after sunset, and a crescent moon hangs over the road — a silent slice of gleaming beauty in a dark blue sky. By then, I’ve been on a school board call for hours, … Continue reading

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Sunday, Sun, Reassessing

After a terrible week, my daughter heads to ski with a friend. Because of the pandemic, she doesn’t catch a ride with the friend. Because my daughter is 15, I’m the designated adult — for what that’s worth — in … Continue reading

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The Way Forward

Skiing along the former railroad bed in the late afternoon, I meet a fellow skier — a man wearing a gray knit hat who’s retired now from the local high school. In one connection or another, I’ve known him since … Continue reading

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The 16th American President Said…

“I want it said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.” — Abraham Lincoln

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Dreaming

Often after the new year, the cold hammers down in Vermont, like a nail gun, sealing the human world except for well-bundled expeditions. The coldest I’ve seen is 40 below zero; mist moved ghost-like over the river, creeping over the … Continue reading

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