I went up North for thanksgiving. I am perfectly happy in Asheville but in the last week or so, it had started to feel like a fist closing around me. I'm not exactly sure why - school stress, house worries maybe- nothing that a few isolated days in Vermont can't fix.
My plane landed Boston and I was treated to that boiled blue New England sky, and a few inches of sifted white snow covered the hills around my house. It was twenty six degrees during the day. The land looked like it had been sugared, and was very beautiful. But a storm moved in one day later and spit grey, wet slush, and the Upper Valley lost that ringing look of pristine winter.
But even under this slightly haunted, weathered look, it's still got to be one of the most gorgeous places on earth. At least, I can't imagine any place better.