We have arrived home to England now after a wonderful three weeks in the Green (white) mountains of Vermont. I wanted to post some last photos of our trip, since I have so many nice ones, and I can't quite believe we're back in Old Blighty with the snow-dusted pines and maples long behind us.
We landed in London early morning, having not slept a wink on the plane, and only the lights over Eastern Canada to keep me company until we sailed skies over Ireland around 5am. Touching tarmac shortly after, we got to our car to find a flat tyre, just as luck would have it. Thankfully it was swiftly resolved by my champion husband and we made our way, wearily, home.
There were so many precious moments during our visit, but the day I took these photographs was one of my favourites. We drove the mud tracks, stopping wherever we found beautiful things. I would sheepishly photograph people's houses before hurrying Jon to drive beside me so I could hop aboard. The long lanes gave ample site seeing opportunities, over valleys that birthed canals of white and grey and tree tops and cabins with their chimneys smoking away. Though, even after a combined six months that I've spent in Vermont over the past years, four of those living in a cabin on Lake Nineva, I am yet to see a black bear or a moose. One day, I hope!
