(This is one of those posts, where it is rather fun to click and zoom in on some of the photos - just to let you know - there's a lot to be seen!)
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Our home is nestled at the bottom of a meadow covered hill, in a high valley in the top of the southern green mountains of Vermont.
If you walk out back, past the barn, there is an old farm road that follows at the foot of the hill.
This photo is looking back towards the barn.
Most of the meadow is hay - mixed with a plethora of wildflowers. Some of the grasses in the hay are timothy, brome, fescue and a touch of alfalfa, trefoil and vetch. It's all spread with buttercups.
If you continue for a little ways, you come to our hidden back meadow.
We don't hay here. It's just full of flowers. I think that Tom has a dream of sheep for this spot.
To the left, around the outside of the trees surrounding the meadow, there is an old town road that disappeared somewhere in the twenties. This is the road that I took, today, and, on my left, was the hay meadow. It is full of Bobolinks nesting. I promise that I will attempt to get a photo of them for you before they are finished. They have the most amazing song and swoop and soar around me.
To my right, is an old stone wall. There are no shortage of these in Vermont, let me tell you!
This is a view, through the hedgerow, of the secret meadow.
At my feet, as I start up the path are wild strawberries. The hill is covered with them but they are very small. You must look or you will miss them.
If you proceed along the path, there is a conjunction of roads and meadows. I, once again, took the path to the left. This takes me around the "loop".....
.....and, to the top of the hill.
This is at the top, looking back down the path I'd just huffed and puffed up. The hills in the distance are cleared, old farmland. I pretend that I live in England when I see it, although, it is difficult to see from here.
Here, I've turned about two hours to my right ("as the clock flies").
I know full well that there is no way to capture what it is like to be on top of that windy hill; so, I am not disappointed. The sky is a bowl over my head. I can see from mountain top to mountain top. "Panorama" is too small of a word to describe it.
The meadow is chest high at the moment. The wind blowing waves through the grass is breathtaking.
(The photo below is taken from the one above. It looks like a watercolor to me.)
Coming around and back down the hill, you can see our older farmhouse, to the left and Tom's Mom's newly built Colonial. (I'm about halfway down the hill.) Just beyond her house, at the bottom of the hill is the big pond. The incline would still be too steep to see it from here if you could see through her house.
"To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee
The revery alone will do
If bees are few."