Beep, Beep, Beep. The alarm signals it is time to arise. It doesn’t wake me up, for I have been awake for quite some time now. I have been lazily lying in bed, gauging the time by the amount of dim, gray light that is the slit between the window shade and trim. I click on the television, so I can see the weather for the day. After all, one has to know how to dress for the weather here in Vermont. Every day can bring a different adventure.

I come downstairs to a perfectly steeped cup of hot tea, decaf with just the right amount of my neighbor’s sweet honey and a slice of fresh squeezed lemon. My wonderful husband has it down to perfection. Beside it sits half a multi-grain English muffin with cream cheese on it burned, just the way I like it. I dive into the morning routine with my usual flurry while my husband, James, plugs along, still asleep on his feet. It is a good thing nothing unusual goes on during this time. He truly does not function beyond auto pilot until that first cup of coffee has kicked in. The polar opposite of me, who is wide awake and ready for all that the world may send my way within the first couple fo steps I take.

With the two lunches made and breakfast now warming my stomach and fueling my body, I start getting dressed for the morning walk. The dogs hear me put on my jacket and they run to the mud room full of excitement. There is no need to call them. They know exactly what that sound means. I strap on the three leashes, put on my backpack with its 20 pounds in it, and we are off.

I head east up the dirt road and soak in the physical beauty of my surroundings. The view never gets old. I gaze upon the spine of the Green Mountains from Camel’s Hump south to Mount Abe and our presidential mountains. The dogs run about smelling all there is for them to smell. I often wonder does it really change that much from day to day? Only they know the answer and they are not telling. We arrive at the turnaround point and I call out, ``This way.’’ Mollie, Happy and Smiley stop dead in their tracks and look. I sweep my arm in an arc and they all come running like something exciting must have happened since our last passing only a few moments ago. Oh, to be a dog, happy just to walk, be fed and be loved.

I am walking west now with the splendor of the High Peaks of the Adirondacks creating a visual feast for my eyes. The reverse sunrise has painted the peaks rose with its beautiful soft light. There is Giant and Dix, with their vast rock escarpments and all their neighbors slowly changing hues from rose to gold as the sun moves closer to the horizon. The New Yorkers do say, ``The only thing you Vermonters have over us is a better view of our mountains.’’ I’ll take it!

Soon, I shall hear it. The silver Subaru wagon will be heading my way. When it approaches, I round up the dogs. Mollie sits obediently and the other two stand and stay waiting patiently for my signal to be off again. I always wonder about the friendly man and his son. Where do they go every weekday? What brings them down this seldom traveled road? I look forward to our brief encounter every time. Without fail, he has a broad grin and an enthusiastic wave, this stranger in the silver Subaru wagon. I do my best to return the morning greeting with equal enthusiasm and cheer.

Once again the thought enters my mind. Gee, it is too bad I have to live here in Vermont with its beautiful diverse physical surroundings, the mountains, the rivers and ponds, and last but not least, Lake Champlain. Vermont offers up endless outdoor fun all at one’s doorstep. But really, I live hear because of the people. People like my neighbors and friends, whom I call upon for an outdoor adventure or a cup of sugar at any time of day. People like the stranger in the silver Subaru wagon who greets me so warmly every weekday morning. This is my chosen place for home. My Vermont.

Dianne Leary
Posted by VPR Online Producer, Tim Johnson