First Light to Last
It is pitch black when my iPhone lights up and pulls me from the depths of sleep. I slap at it to silence the noise; the face reads 3:45. For just a moment I am disoriented, but it does not take long for me to remember: I’m back in Vermont, my second home. I haven’t slept in this house for a little over a month now, having been pulled back once again at summer’s close to South Jersey where I make my living teaching high school English. Summer in Vermont is amazing, and I have missed this place over the weeks since school began. I arrived late Friday, and need to head back early Sunday.
I have only Saturday, so Saturday starts early. It will end late.
The smell of coffee drifts up through the uninsulated floors of my bedroom, so I dress quickly, having meticulously laid everything out the night before. Once downstairs, I pour coffee into the mug that reads “No wi-fi. Go read.” and double-check my gear one more time. Then I throw on my winter hat, strap the headlamp over it and head for the door. I plan to be atop Stowe Pinnacle by sunrise.
Vermont is a stunningly beautiful place any time of year, but the fall is like your favorite childhood coloring book revived and made tangible to remind you of all the natural world holds. I have just one day, and I hope to fill my eyes with everything this place has to offer: mountain tops against huge skies, fall’s final flowers lingering in the fields surrounded by foliage aflame, textures of barns and barbed wire, lakes like looking glass.
So, here it is, one day in central Vermont from first light to last.
