On my Jet Blue flight from NYC just now, I sat next to another person who grew up in Vermont and is coming back this weekend for a family reunion.
As we started to see the Green Mountains, we both were stretching our necks to absorb as much as possible of the scenery outside the window of the plane.
It happens slower when I am in a car as I cross over into Vermont in White River Junction, but looking down from the plane on the state that I spent half of my growing up years, warmed by heart and calmed my soul.
A lot of it is the history of family here, and the presence of current family that we visit when we come up for the weekend. And some of it is the life style and the scenery. I read an article in Vermont magazine about a man who commutes, but never dreads his commute because he is driving through beautiful part of Vermont.
I love Vermont, again, and again, and again.
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