I keep looking at this photo, knowing it's the news I want to share the most after such a long time away from writing: John and I are in contract for this beautiful piece of land — 10 acres of field and forest and that weathered old barn — in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. If all goes well this will be the view out our window in 4-ish years.
I lived with my family in Vermont on and off for over a decade, albeit on the other side of the state, and though my parents aren't there anymore, when I go back to visit the mountains still feel like home. After John hiked the entire Long Trail four years ago he knew that it felt like the right place for him too.
Last Thanksgiving I swirled down a Zillow rabbit hole, favoriting properties just for fun, but then over the winter it became a serious hunt. I love my life in Columbus but John and I know it isn't where we want to be forever; our dream is to build a little house on a piece of land with a view of stars and the sound of wind in the trees. A place where your ears don't have filter out background noise to get to the quiet.
Yes, there is an entire world of other places we could have chosen. My heart sings in big sky country, in the desert, at the sea. Why go back to a state I’ve lived in already? Why not go somewhere new? There are all kinds of things that I could name as reasons: I'm a New England girl, I still have friends there, I love all the snow. But in the end the decision is a simple one: it just feels right going back to the place I once called home.
(Plus, well, maple trees, maple syrup, maple sugar candy, maple creemees…)