I keep finding new ways Vermont, life in Averill specifically, is like cruising. There’s the beauty, the solitude. The self-reliance. The immediacy of nature and the availability of time to enjoy it. The social ease of gatherings where the focus is our shared experience as opposed to our occupations. The enjoyment of sunsets and moon rises and stars.
This last week, though, as we raced against the clock to finalize projects that have sat on the board for months (and left a few behind), the main reason Vermont is NOT like cruising (okay, other the fact that we’re on land) hit me hard.
When we’re cruising, yes we say goodbye to places and people.
But our boat, our beloved, gorgeous, finely-tuned abode? That stays with us.
Not so much in Vermont. Closing the doors on that beloved, gorgeous, not-quite-fine-tuned abode was heart wrenching. 2020 seems so far away.