Green and Empty
Good friend Priya , determined that I should "relax," has whisked me away from home to her place up in Stratton, Vermont. Population 136, not counting the winter residents like herself. I don't come up here in the winter because I don't ski, so it's always like a ghost town in my experience. But still lovely to hike around, even in chilly damp weather like what we're experiencing this weekend.
Priya's balcony affords a good view of Stratton Mountain. It's the largest mountain in southern Vermont, and the one responsible for all of Priya's knee injuries. Hardly anyone in this town doesn't have an ACL injury from skiiing. Or from snowboarding--if you ask anyone around here where the snowboard was invented, they'll tell you Stratton Mountain. (Go out west and you'll get a different answer.)
No color in the leaves yet, thankfully. But the pee gee hydrangea blossoms are blushing and the goldenrod is out. It won't be long before the leaf peepers arrive, and then the skiiers and boarders. I'll stay away; I like having Vermont to myself.
Priya's balcony affords a good view of Stratton Mountain. It's the largest mountain in southern Vermont, and the one responsible for all of Priya's knee injuries. Hardly anyone in this town doesn't have an ACL injury from skiiing. Or from snowboarding--if you ask anyone around here where the snowboard was invented, they'll tell you Stratton Mountain. (Go out west and you'll get a different answer.)
No color in the leaves yet, thankfully. But the pee gee hydrangea blossoms are blushing and the goldenrod is out. It won't be long before the leaf peepers arrive, and then the skiiers and boarders. I'll stay away; I like having Vermont to myself.
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