Saturday, January 07, 2012


The New Year blows sweet, although a bit cold.  There are no questions for me now.  I am in the right place at this particular time of life.  On a chilly Thursday morning, Barry's birthday, we head north.  
Franconia Notch
Cannon Mountain 
Crossing the Pemigewasset River
near its source
We walk to the Basin over a thin layer of ice.  There's a woodpecker hole on this pine tree to the left.  The air is crisp and bites my nose.  I wear my new "retirement boots", lumberjack leather, thick sturdy soles -- and I don't fall.

We warm up at the Littleton Diner and feed our minds at the wonderful independent bookstore down the street.  We come away with books on mushrooms, writing, and log drives down the Connecticut River.  I buy myself a "Congratulations on your retirement" card.  It just seems the right thing to do.

Barry treats himself at the local antique-curio shop where he finds the sword of a long-deceased swordfish.  It just seems the right thing to do -- and it is.


chris said...

this is so sweet. i'm so happy you both had such a wonderful day. whether you wear your retirement boots or not, you'll never fall. not now.

Cherie Blessing said...

That's my home country, and I love every crumb of granite and every needle of balsam on that land. Sometimes I drive up to the Village Bookstore just because. Your piece made my day.

gretchen said...

It's such a beautiful land -- and, now all the more special knowing it's your 'home country'. I'm glad to hear from you! Now, every time I pass through the Notch, I'll send a little message your way.