It's been awhile since I've written on these pages. So much happens in our lives that we sometimes need to stop if for no other reason than to watch a river flow. (Thanks, Bob Dylan, for that wonderful song.)
I hiked and snowshoed today in the White Mountain National Forest. The Pemigewasset Wilderness in northern New Hampshire offered such a glorious day. I found myself enthralled by the beauty of the frigid waters, the snowy shores, the seemingly impenatrable riparian ice.
I hiked and snowshoed today in the White Mountain National Forest. The Pemigewasset Wilderness in northern New Hampshire offered such a glorious day. I found myself enthralled by the beauty of the frigid waters, the snowy shores, the seemingly impenatrable riparian ice.
Come summer I plan to motorcycle back to this river. Perhaps a picnic on the rocky shoreline can be enjoyed: toes dipped in the racing water, fingers wrapped around fine bread and cheese, and maybe even a little taste of Amorone wine to round out the perfect meal.
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