Not often and certainly not often enough do we have the opportunity to have dinner at Cloudland Farm in Woodstock, Vermont. The food is incredible and the atmosphere is otherworldly beautiful…
Heat enveloped the day.
A shroud of humidity encased the earth.
Unrelenting.
Oppressive.
A reservation at a
local spot.
Early Bird dining at
5 p.m. with friends.
Remote roads
climbed.
Winding through the Vermont landscape.
Puffs of dirt
rose under the spin of a tire.
A grand yellow farmhouse to the right.
Seated high above.
The restaurant
across the way.
Green rocky fields.
Rambling stonewalls.
Cows rhythmically grazed.
Depths of distant
mountains.
Early evening
stillness.
A wraparound porch shone hot.
Crisp white tablecloths
decorated the rustic.
Table for four
around the corner.
Shaded.
Shielded.
Soft intermittent warm summer breezes
soulfully danced across our spirits.
Eagerly we chatted.
Adult children, weddings, grandchildren, art, work, missed adventures and pending travel.
Health and
those we had lost.
The song of our server was delightfully delivered.
We ate.
Enjoyed.
So many months had passed.
Conversation
easy.
We had missed each other.
Missed so much.
Languishing over our final bites and
moments we hesitated…
I so love to read your blogs! It is both nostalgic and at the same time, touches on thoughts and feelings of today!
Keep writing, Liz!
It’s as beautiful as your artwork!
So lovely Dale, thank you very much for your kind words!