Driving my 2018 SUV much like I would drive a vintage 1965 Chevy aqua blue long bed pick-up truck down my long straight country road. Paved not dirt which doesn’t complete the ideal fantasy, but it still works. I have never actually driven a 1965 pick-up truck or any year for that matter but that is the beauty of imagination. Covering many remote miles as quickly and discreetly as possible is a shared experience in the north. The necessary constraints on living right now only enhances this cherished moment of unrestricted freedom.
There truly is a sense of freedom in what sometimes feels like more rugged living in Vermont. An ability to move freely and a desire to embrace what still remains wild. Horseback riding in a New England country field behind my childhood home years ago I would daydream about riding out west with open plains and endless unspoiled landscape. Always wanted to be a cowgirl. Wild and free.
Wafting cherry smoke fills the cabin of my car. A warmth and familiarity fill my senses even with my uncertainty of its origin. I feel at home. Autumn leaves drift across the pavement as they have been terminated from their assigned trees. The bare trees continue to provide us with color as a soft purple hue travels across the hills. Nature is perfect.
The sounds of plows will soon echo through the cold still star filled nights leaving me to wonder and discover in the early morning just how much snow has fallen. Wild and free becomes wonder and amazement. All compliments of nature. A blanket of snow renews our landscape and my soul. Purity. Simplicity. Nature sparkles within the white showcasing shades of lavender, blues and grays. It’s coming…
Need to get my snow tires on that SUV. Vermont living…grateful.
