Built in 1840, our house seems old to us, but old houses in northern New England are as common as cows, so this one is nothing special, and the hill is just a minor rise on Vermont’s rolling surface. The ten acres of meadow and woods are altogether typical for our part of the state.
Edith and I don’t care. The house on Hyland Hill appealed to us for a long time before we ever stumbled into owning this place and its acreage of meadow and woods. Now—strangely and wonderfully—we find it ours to look after, share, and explore.
This blog will be an improvisatory chronicle of our time here . . . not so much by focusing on the house itself (though I’ll have a few things to say on that subject) but rather by using Hyland Hill to explore subjects that come into focus while living here. As a writer with a restless mind rather than a disciplined intellect, “to explore subjects” will mean I’ll follow my hunches and whims along the forking paths of my curiosity. Recurrent stops along the way will include Vermont wildlife, local history, music, literature (especially fiction and poetry), environmental issues, photography, current events, food . . . You get the idea.
Anyway, I hope you’ll come along for the walk.