Fall in Vermont

Vermont and fall seem to be joined together…trees bursting into flaming hues in the news and advertisements…come, come….hence another rebellious episode with my rascal comrade in all things not allowed.

1968-ish. 

Samm and I snuck out of Northfiled on one Friday afternoon and headed for Jeffersonville, Vermont as autumn spirits made it impossible not to.

With a bag of pecan sandies in hand, and not much else, we cleared the school grounds and stuck out our thumbs. I’m sorry, Mom! The sylphs made us do it. 

I had never expereinced a pecan sandie before but Samm dared me to eat just one. I must admit that I could have, as they didn’t ring my chimes as they did hers, but I was starving and so kept my voice closed but my mouth open. We walked and walked and just as the bag had nothing but crumbs that were in the moment being ravenoulsy poured, with powder flying, down Samm’s throat, a car stopped to pick us up. The man rolled down his window and asked where we were headed. We told him. He shook his head and said “Shame on you two, do your parents know that you do this?”

“No.”

“Well, because I have a daughter that I pray NEVER does this, I will take you to Jeffersonville, even though it is the opposite direction from where I am going. Climb in. And no crumbs, if you don’t mind.”

We rode in silence and the spot where we were let out was a turn around spot for him, and so we still had a bit of a hike ahead of us. The sun was beginning to set and as I breathed in the golden light, gazing out over a  pasture full of cows, I jerked into reality, rubbing my eyes, as there were two feet sticking out of the rear end of one of the cows. 

“Samm! Look! I think a baby cow is trying to be born!”

Samm, fiddling with her backpack laughed without looking up, thinking that I’m playing with her.

I began to run and then she jumped into action as well.

“Oh my God, Plum! You weren’t kidding!” 

Samm ran and knocked on the farmer’s door, while I ran over to investigate the mother cow. She seemed to be in non distress, which I thought was odd, but oh well, good.

Skipping ahead… in the barn…we helped the farmer pull the baby out of its mother and both behaved as if all of this was completely ordinary. A new life and a pleased mother.

We made it to the house where we were heading in the first place, took luscious hot baths,  and agreed that this had been a highly successful outing. We hiked through fall colors the next day and headed back to Northfiled on Sunday morning. Of course this meant that we were skipping church, again! Hurray.

Fall in Vermont…surprise yourself!

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