A Vermont State of Mind

The Lord watch between me and thee while we are absent one from another.

A maxim passed from one generation to another lands perfectly in his hands. It grabs my attention as I visually consume this glorious home. It is the home of a 21st century, country gentleman with lots of glass vistas, room and enough of decks to catch the sun as it moves across the sky. That he has found his beloved in Nan, makes his home an expansive expression of the joys of mature love and refined and refreshing taste. The entire ambiance recharges my spirit. There is nothing quite as enjoyable than to be with two people in love, giving praise and affection to one another. Two more days, bathed in this glow would have been perfect. But ever mindful not to wear out my welcome, I'll look forward to September in Vermont.

Vignettes of Vermont

Carol's seasonal home on the border with Canada is the perfect respite from the demands and cares of the world. She has set up her large, lake-side cottage set to accommodate as many family members and guests as possible. Couches, beds, recliners are arranged to take advantage of the views of the lake. The kitchen is large enough for two to work comfortably, but all the real roasting and cooking is done on grills and a special roasting spit outside. Here Rick and all involved, roast a pork loin on Saturday evening and a turkey on Sunday. The juiciness of both and the plenitude of food fills every need of each guest. We take our sun in a row of padded chairs along with our beverages of choice after arriving Saturday afternoon. There are plenty of choices! The companionship is familiar with Nan's clan which makes conversations flow easily, but we are also content to be quiet and peaceful, letting the sound of the lapping waves ease our souls. What is it about a lake in the mountains that can set a spirit free?

Carol has vision. Her vacation home is a work in progress filled with memories and mementos and gifts from different sources. There are no worries here. This is the place to escape any thoughts that consume us in more urban and suburban environments.  Out of an undeveloped lot she acquired, her team in life helped her cut walking paths that leads to a secluded cove. A perfect place for solitude or a quiet talk. A sizable Japanese wooden arbor marks the entrance. Peace to all who enter. The grass is freshly mowed. A garden of perennials will emerge over time giving this natural space more color. Calm spread through me as Nan, and then Carol, took me on a guided tour. A bench is perfectly placed to see the cove. 

The native American name for this lake is long and unpronounceable for me, so lets just call it Menag for short. It connects Quebec to Vermont. Less than 10 years ago, a simple state drivers license could get youa cross the border to the Canadian resort town on the north side of this very large finger lake. Now, there are signs of US homeland security everywhere. I saw at least three different manned border crossings. The bright yellow buildings with barricades, cameras and mirrors jolts me. Even the back roads have security apparatus or gates. For hundreds of years commerce flowed easily between these remote sections of Vermont and Quebec. Now a passport is mandatory. A sorrowful reflection of our times.

What marks this lake is its silence. No competing motor boats, jet-skis, or sailboats crowding this lake. It must be one of the last remaining outposts of a pure lake-side retreat. This makes having a boat essential for fishing or recreation. Sunday, though sunny in many places south of us, was a bit overcast. Nate noticed white-caps as the winds picked up. Kevin asks if we would like to go out for a drive. YES, leaps out of my mouth. He smiles and promises we will do so, and true to his word, after we digested the rich turkey, he tells us it's time for a crusise of the lake. 

Oh, my heart and mind and spirit had rediscovered her love of speed, water and wind rushing around me and through me. I smile from the moment Kevin's boat leaves the dock and more so as it picks up speed. A sudden sprinkle of rain could not dampen the smile on my face or the unfettered freedom of my soul. I beam recalling this is when I experience pure joy. On the water, whether sailing or motoring with the wind flowing through my hair is a natural high for me. Here I'm simply happy. I look over at Nan wrapped up in a hooded sweatshirt with sunglasses with a smile upon her face, too, and she looks like Jackie O out for a spin. Kevin throttles the boat as we cruise within yards of the Canadian border catching some of the McMansions and homes with boathouses along the western shore. This is a very, very small town. Locals know everybody including the regular visitors. There is no one on the lake on this late afternoon. We have this gigantic lake that links Canada and the US all to ourselves. It's just such an awesome experience. Thank you, Kevin and Nate. Captain and Skipper. Thank you, Carol, for your hospitality, generosity of spirit and making me feel welcome to your home.

Back to Newfane, the small village outside of Brattleboro. The oversize octagon table sits 10 comfortably at Ned's home. His space is designed for an over flowing crowd. Ned tends the grill laden with steaks and chicken. Nan, accustomed to smaller spaces, bustles about the kitchen with counter space galore. There is more than enough room to can the anticipated garden now being planted with blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, tomatoes, peppers, squash and the like. She makes her own Marinara and applesauce. It will be a productive harvest as they discuss the planting and placement of the garden underway. The danger of frost passes around Memorial Day. The growing season is short in Vermont but the land is rich and fertile. With a pile of gardening books, Nan educates us, those like me, who shop in grocery stores and seasonal farm stands for fresh, organic food. Here, she has the know-how to plant and prepare enough of vegetables and fruits to last a year or more. I envy her industriousness.

Back to the table nested in a turret-like structure. There are the familiar faces of Katherine and Fran, so we pick up where we last left off. Now, thankfully, men have entered our companionship. Luke is a white Rastafarian with a somber, serious tone. Once upon a time, he was a popular musician in Boston. With his pony-tailed hair and sharp intellect, he entertains us with stories about our shared love of Jamaica where he has a home waiting for him. Sitting in a rocking chair, he is a rugged woodsman whose profile is akin to Abraham Lincoln. That's what makes Vermont unique, the number of individuals with previous successes and accomplishments finding refuge or retirement in the natural beauty and spirit of Vermont.

Vermont is a state of mind made even more special with the loving companionship of old and new friends.