|Hall of the Mountain Maples|
Sunday, July 28, 2013
THE HALL OF THE MOUNTAIN MAPLES
There is a stretch of dirt road in Peacham Vermont that excites me. It’s often damp and dark, and marked by one point perspective that is draws me in. Along each side of the road stands a row of very old, maple trees ready to do a square dance or salute my entrance. I feel a kinship with their effort in standing tall despite the ravages of weather and aging. I view them as friends and kindred spirits–women with something sweet inside a rugged outer beauty.