Vermont is … different.
It’s not really all that different from the New Hampshire I grew up in, but that New Hampshire is mostly long gone, papered over by the lure of development and tourism. No longer does one find many vast expanses of farmland, homes built by hand with full-size logs lying alongside the driveway, waiting to be cut and split into firewood, or communities where the nearest neighbor is half a mile away.
In Vermont, those places still exist in abundance, and during visits, they exert a pull on the heart, bringing back emotions and memories of a simpler — but harder — life.
Vermont is different because it holds firmly onto its past while also reaching into the future. The state has taken progressive stances on solid waste that include requiring the composting of food waste to cut down on the amount of trash going into landfills. It offers a number of ways for those with low income levels to have access to good, healthy food, and plenty of it. There are services for the blind that enable them to do everything a sighted person can do.
Yet there is an appreciation of history, where people marvel at events like the moose rodeos that once took place; where miners harvested iron and built stone chambers where they used charcoal, ore, and limestone to reach temperatures capable of melting the iron; and where a woman could operate an equestrian camp that taught generations of children to ride.
My son, who now lives in Monkton VT, gave me a copy of Ed Barna’s A Reporter’s Vermont, which I’ve been making my way through. The book is a collection of Barna’s blog entries, recorded as he attended various events, interviewed Vermonters, and delved into the history of the Green Mountain State.
This past weekend, my wife and I visited my son and his family as they celebrated my youngest grandson’s birthday, then Easter. Thanks to my daughter’s advance searches of places to stay, we had a chance to spend time in the area and immerse ourselves in Vermont culture for a few days. We stayed at an airbnb cabin set on a 106-acre plot criss-crossed with logging roads and hiking trails. There were plenty of neighbors, but the setting was remote enough that, from the property, no one else was in sight.
The cabin reminded me of our own cottage in northern New Hampshire, but was equipped with everything a visitor could want, from modern kitchen ware to big-screen television with a cable connection and wi-fi. A steep ladder leading to the sleeping loft meant it was not ADA-compliant, but the cabin’ large windows, overlooking the grassy backyard and giving it an open-air feel for a relaxing stay, made up for that.
It was on the kitchen wall of that cabin that a photo of the 1923 Vergennes Moose Rodeo caught my eye. How “Vermont” was that?
Then again, what a metaphor it provides for the precarious lives we live!
In the midst of celebrating a birthday, and ahead of the Sunday Easter egg hunt, I received an email from a friend, saying that his mother was dying and he would be joining his family to be with her during her last days. It was one of those blows we all face at some point, but in his case, it was especially troublesome, as he was still coming to terms with the recent death of another friend whom he and I had been deeply fond of. Actually, it was her death that led to our reconnecting with each other after having lost touch years ago.
Over the last few weeks, Doug and I have been sharing our memories of Mary while catching up with has happened in each other’s lives. We had been planning a Zoom call to overcome the distance between us when the news about his mother meant we’d have to postpone that virtual encounter. Death again interferes with life.
We are riding that moose and seeing how long we can stay on top before we, too, fall down. It is a challenge, and a thrill to experience, but always, in the back of our minds, is the knowledge that it cannot last forever. So we look back on the friendships we have had, the adventures we share, and what we have learned from the mistakes we have made. And with Easter’s message in the air, we have the promise of something better to come.