I will remember the sound of peace and quiet that surrounded me in White River Junction and at Willoughby. The sight of the mountains and the Northern Loons swimming past me in my kayak. The summer rain that would come and go, sometimes in a fury, but never staying long. The clear skies at night and the bright stars that looked close enough to touch.
I would try to hold onto some of that peace and tranquility as I rolled back home on the Vermonter, which again was about half full. Through Bellows Falls, and Brattleboro, we picked up more passengers, and would soon be in Massachusetts where I could anticipate getting back home.
I will return next year to Greensboro, as I did the year before and I will again be challenged to find a different way to spend the adventure. Perhaps I shall return to the Highland Lodge, but doing it by train like I did 6 years ago just to talk about Wallace Stegner with the precious few people who knew anything about him is what made the adventure stand out as something a little more special. Robert Frost had written about "The Path Not Taken", and I chose the one that has made all the difference.
No comments:
Post a Comment