I meandered my way through tiny Vermont towns that were cuter than buttons and as quaint as can be. Each, I noticed, had a cemetery off the main drag and they were all larger than the current population. I’d like to visit more cemeteries, those old old ones. There is something so calming about them, the centuries-old plots have so much artistry and craftsmanship involved and I really think they are one of the least creepy places around. After all, no spirit is going to hang around their burial site. Right? One of my favorite cemeteries in this world is found in Dublin, Ireland; Glasnevin. It’s truly out of this world beautiful.
Back to the living, in Vermont.. the homes hugged the curbs and the porches are nicer than those I’d ever seen in my neck of the woods, with wrap-arounds top and bottom. The stunning make-up of these towns were as picturesque as I’d imagined and seen in photographs. It felt as if I was driving right through the set of Stars Hallow village after village.
At some point, I crossed a rickety, but probably up to code, bridge and a river somewhere in the wilderness. My GPS officially welcomed me to New Hampshire. It’s weird how life takes you on the scenic route sometimes, or Google to be more exact.
The tiny towns found in every Lifetime movie stopped but the curves and twists of the road grew, the trees towered, and every now and again I saw a blip of blue sky peeking through.
As I write this, I’m sitting at the top of an observation tower in the clouds of the Cannon Mountains. I’m not sure that I’ve ever been in the clouds before, with all the wind and the white flusteries in my face. It’s cold and I can feel the altitude in my lungs. But I feel the sun up there somewhere too.
I can’t see beyond the posts holding this thing up but on a clear day.. Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont can be seen for miles and mountainous miles. Or so they say.
Truthfully, I’m still up here in hopes for a break in the clouds so I can see as far as my eyes will let me but for now, I’m happy to imagine this is what the stairway to heaven may look like one day. When the wind is quiet every now and again, I stop writing wondering if I might hear a looming voice from beyond the clouds. Wouldn’t that be something?
I eventually made my way back through the woods, down the tram, and off to a little cabin in Maine at the gateway of Acadia National Park. While I didn’t run into any big bad wolves, I did come across a sign or twenty for moose along my way. Precious in photos, on t-shirts, and as a bit of a doorknob via Bullwinkle on TV, but I’m sure that’s about as far as the cute factor goes. I wouldn’t want to cross one of those suckers IRL.
Across the way from the cabin is a lobster and barbecue joint plastered with seafood-esque signage and feel good smells everywhere. It seemed like the kind of place that the fun-having, life-loving pogues of Outer Banks would go to.
I didn’t catch the chef’s name but I asked what a newbie to seafood, never-having-had-lobster, kind of girl should try. He suggested an open-face grilled “lobby” (how fricking cute) with his world famous beans. Freshly caught today less than 10 miles away, my first lobster was delicious. 10 outta 10, def recommend! *chef’s kiss*