Plants of the White Mountains

Weirdly, I’m feeling homesick for the White Mountains.  It’s not an autumn thing- we always used to go in late spring, around Dad’s (and, incidentally, Patrick Henry’s) birthday.  We haven’t been in years.

In fact, I think the last time we went was in the winter.  We’ve been a few times in the winter too.  It’s better for skiing and snowshoeing- I used to be a pretty good skier.  And the first year we went I think it was around Autumn times.  In any event, it was cold enough that I was able to feel my metabolic processes shut down when I jumped into Lonesome Lake like an idiot.  I also lived on Hershey bars that trip. Continue reading “Plants of the White Mountains”

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