To The Daily Sun,
Interstate 93 offers a magnificent foliage showcase, especially when drives North of Concord. A recent trip on my way to work allowed me to enjoy the multiple colors that made the landscape brilliant in the midst of the rising fog and brightening of the sun's rays. The reds, the yellows, orange, and purples offered stark contrast to the evergreens of pines, hemlocks, and firs. A recent trip also presented clear skies void of clouds that added to the intense colors that framed the highway. The temptation to get off the highway and enjoy the local colors was strong. It is this reason among many others, that led me to move to New Hampshire in 1994.
Yes, I am a “flatlander.” My former home was in the bed of the roots that defined our country's history, Pennsylvania, just as here in New Hampshire. The common bond of those who were raised in the “original 13” is the deep appreciation we all have for life as well as nature's beauty. It was time to take a break from the letters of opinions and enjoy what New Hampshire offers to all of us.
There is something almost surreal about the mountains, valleys and rivers surrounded by the colors of the fall. Relaxing, calming, and a treat for the eyes and the souls of those who overwhelmed by such beauty of nature. While this season is a hint of the colder and white days ahead of us, nonetheless, even after residing here over 23 years, the mountains and foliage still continue to impress me. Seeing Lake Waukewan surrounded by the colors on its still moments of the days simply is so difficult to put in words, but seeing it all is a gift for all of us. The routes through Franconia Notch, Crawford Notch, and the “Kanc” alone are worthy of travel even on the darkest of days. The colors seem to shout even more amidst a rainy day. The Ossipee Mountain range roads twist and wind through the orange and red colors in the woods. Perhaps even a moose or bear may cross the road as if to say hello. There are more to enjoy, but these are favorites for me.
A favorite spot is Lake and Mount Chocorua, and allows time to enjoy personal transcendental meditation. The stillness of this lake, surrounded by the colors appears to take a double look with the reflections that so carefully arranged on the lake. Nearby, the traffic rumbles on Route 16, but here in this little spot, so quiet, the stillness so deafening. Walking up the road to the bridge, Mount Chocorua stands high, looking over the namesake lake. The reflections are remarkable. The bounty of colors so bright, one needs to shelter the eyes to take this all in.
This is the one bond that brings all of us together, no matter what our viewpoints and opinions may be. We are one, embraced by this most glorious season of the year. Harvest fairs, farmstands, pumpkins, delicious baked goods of the local farms win both the heart and the appetites we all have. The colored corn, the stalks, squash, and gourds are nicely arranged to make the setting a nice way to take in the day. It is this time of year, one could almost say, we are all one, and hail from New Hampshire.
The firepit at night offers solace and hope, as well as reflecting warmth. The skies offer stars so bright, no light pollution except for the flickering of the flames. At times, the night chill invigorates the soul. In the distance, one can see the eyes of the friendly and not so friendly critters of night. The black and white tail wags, but stays away from the fire. The hoot of the owls are heard nearby. The occasional meteor streaks the sky. The trees stand dark against this astronomical show. Yet again, tomorrow is another day ahead.
Hark, do I hear the bluejays shout at the crows on the land? Sitting on the porch, over coffee in the morning, a deer may quietly leave the power-lines overhead into the woods. The traffic in the early morning is absent as I sit down at this early time of day, waiting for the sun to rise over the rising mist on the land. When it does, as the traffic arrives, the reflection on the trees is almost psychedelic. I-93 is a temptress no doubt, but its journey is quiet impressive. More importantly, it is another day to wake up, that alone is truly a gift.
Bob Joseph, Jr.
- Written by Mike Mortensen
- Category: Letters
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