AUTUMN IN THE MOUNTAINS OF MAINE – GARRY ARMSTRONG

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We both took a few pictures. I didn’t take as many as Marilyn, but as it happens, a few of mine came out pretty well … so let’s all enjoy autumn a little longer. The first three are of Attean Pond, taken from the scenic view on Route 201.

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The photograph below was taken from the Margaret Chase Smith Library grounds in Skowhegan, the day we drove down to have lunch with Bette Stevens, Maine author and a good friend.

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DREAMY MISTY MOUNTAINS

Dreamy

A misty morning, your handsome spouse, your grandmother’s house that’s also your elementary school and the Eiffel Tower — this week, show us something dreamy.


 

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MONDAY — OCTOBER IN VERMONT

The mist is nearly gone ...

The mist is nearly gone …

As the rains washes the remaining leaves from the trees, autumn lingers in my photo files. It was a great autumn and I still have more than a few pictures to show you.

In the valley when the mist clears , you can see the farms and houses

From our grand tour of the White Mountains of Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. October, 2014 is definitely one of the best ever.

Pink reflections at day's end

Pink reflections at day’s end

IF ONLY I HAD AN EXTRA HOUR

Twenty-Five Seven

Good news — another hour has just been added to every 24-hour day (don’t ask us how. We have powers). How do you use those extra sixty minutes?

Twilight over the hills, Peacham, Vermont

Sunrise over the hills, Peacham, Vermont

If there were another hour in the day, it wouldn’t be enough. If there were another 5 or 6 hours in the day, it still wouldn’t be enough. Because sooner or later, you have to stop what you are doing and rest. Take a break. Stop moving, stop talking, stop the world. It’s time to get off.

Morning again and the mist

Morning again and the mist

The last couple of days have been continuous great conversation, fabulous food. Magical panoramas of a countryside so beautiful it seems like a dream. It’s been amazing. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Not enough hours to eat, talk, tour, take pictures, process pictures, write, answer comments. Socialize. Remember. Not even close.

I find myself having to face my own limits … I cannot do a single thing more and maintain any kind of balance. Yesterday, I realized I was not going to answer all the lovely comments and I was certainly not going to get to reading — or even skimming all the blogs I normally follow. I had been saving them, hoping that “later” I would get to them, but later, we were talking, remembering, laughing. Discovering we’d read the same book, shared many interests we’d never imagined.

Morning light on trees and fields

Morning light on trees and fields

Of course we know many of the same people. We knew that. We all went to the same college and worked at the same college radio station … that’s where so much of our lives because.

Our host was one of the early arrivals along with my first husband and a few others. They were the guys who turned it into a place where magic happened, where we invented ourselves, invented many things that are now part of media history. There had to be a first time for everything, but it is weird to realize that you were there — as an observer and sometimes, as a participant — in the creation of things that are now so basic to the broadcast industry that they seem to have existed forever.

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Yet they had a beginning. WVHC at Hofstra University was an incubator, a rich supportive environment for a bunch of creative kids who had ideas. New ideas. Because it was a different time, freer, with looser structure at the school — before so many rules and limitations were put in place — we had a chance to create new ways to do stuff.

Quiet country roads

Quiet country roads

And here we are, remembering, savoring people we know, the parts we played. Recognizing that things we and our friends did — invented — have made a difference. Truly changed the world and our industry. We really did it.

And all of this in beautiful Vermont where the leaves are golden and the last corn awaits harvesting. It is magic time.