Every outing I feel like I come closer and closer to having the cops called on me for being almost criminally weird. Today was no exception as in my search for the perfect aquascape fish tank I was on the lookout for a clump of wet leaves and mud – which I found before squirrelling it away in my purse in a plastic sandwich bag. No, I’m not conjuring creek nymphs, I swear. I was just after the healthy bacteria that breaks down said leaves so I could introduce them to my little aquatic habitat. Old School filtration – nature knows best! Plus how better to multitask than making your nature walk into a treasure hunt?
So that’s how I ended up at the Wales Loop. I’ve been here before but it wasn’t quite like this – all the rain we’ve been getting this spring and the melted snow from the mountains was whooshing by in a very feisty little river! On my last visit this was little more than a slow creek but not today! It was so loud that I couldn’t hear anything my mother was saying (as I brought her out for this adventure to be my hiking buddy for the day.)
Surprisingly, there was already two cars parked there aside the road (as there’s no proper parking) when we got there and we passed three sets of hikers. For such a tiny and out of the way trail this was encouraging! Also encouraging was the boot brush at the beginning of the trail asking that we wipe our feet before and after entering to avoid the spread of invasive seeds.
As always it was just absolutely gorgeous scenery winding along the river. And it smelled so fresh! I had also chosen this trail because except for this tiny incline at the beginning it’s for the most part very flat and super easy and that’s what my mother needed to start the sunny season. We did not do the whole loop as we wanted to enjoy the river as much as possible so we turned around when it started to head into the woods. Perhaps I will do that half of the loop at a later date.
All and all I would highly suggest this out of the way trail for anyone in the area looking for something a little less known or an easy trail. We all know there’s plenty of mountains around but not all hikers are up to that challenge! And there’s no shame in that. Go out, listen to the birds, dip your feet in a river. It’s all good!
I have been awaiting the release of Loving Vincent for over a year. It’s a full length feature film that was animated by 63,000 oil paintings in the style of Vincent Van Gogh, and not surprisingly, it is about his life. An ambitious project, I was concerned no one near here would be showing it, but I was happily surprised! A half an hour away there was an adorable tiny theater attached to the town hall of Wilton NH. They were charging an admirable $7 admission. I knew I had to go. I was planning on going alone, though I can’t say I was thrilled at that prospect (this seemed like an experience I wanted to share with someone.) So when I ended up with a friend that day we went together. I didn’t know what to expect of the theater or the film. This could be either amazing or horrible.
It was a very easy place to find, though there was no parking. I found a spot across the street but I guess there is municipal parking nearby. The theater was marked with two sandwich boards on the street. I opened the large church-like doors and was greeted by a large staircase and a couple bathrooms, marked by a large sign reading,”Gentlemen to the left, because ladies are always right.” No ticket booth or consignment stand? No people? It seemed awfully quiet but if there was going to be anything going on it’d be up those gorgeous stairs. Up I went!
At the top there was a tiny consignment counter also selling tickets. The smell of fresh buttered popcorn wafted in the air. I paid the sweet old man at the counter for my ticket and asked to see Loving Vincent as there were two movies running tonight – the other being Victoria and Abdul. How excited I was to find somewhere that played British films!! I always get to hear about all these cool British films but never get to see any because American cinemas don’t play them. I pondered if this place ever played French films… That’d make me absolutely giddy… but back to the story. The ticket taker told us we’d love the film, I smiled and said I hoped so! To my left I found the screening, it was so adorably old timey in appearance, a small theater screen in the front complete with curtains. 100-150 simple chairs were set up. There were perhaps 30 people here. I chose a seat in the middle and settled in.
When the movie started it didn’t take me long to adjust to the unusual animation method. I almost immediately recognized some of the actors from watching too much BBC… It started out rather rough with a somewhat unlikable character, the son of the postman who was given a letter from Vincent to his brother to deliver a year after Vincent’s death. He’s harsh and angry at this task, especially after finding out Vincent’s brother had died six months after Vincent did, and now he had to find someone else to give the letter to. What followed was interviews with half the town, an impromptu three day investigation, that was absolutely heart wrenching. Although the investigation was fascinating, full of twists, turns, half-truths, and missing information, the characters gave something so much more… the emotional devastation wrought by the suicide of a man who clearly left a very big impact on everyone he met. Every character added more depth, more layers, more sorrow. I do not cry at movies but this had me on the verge for over an hour and did manage to make my friend cry. It ended with a revelation that was such a gut-wrenching twist that I also felt a bit nauseous at it all by the time I left but having said this all I can say is WOW. This was probably the best movie I have ever seen – so artfully done it tackled some hard subject matter with such tenderness! If you’re someone who likes art, drama, or sad movies, you must see this. It is a masterpiece! And I will be back to the Wilton Theater, no doubt, to see what else it has to offer.
I love going to the feed store – mostly because I rarely ever end up there without distracting myself first. Today was no different. I took a long, winding, and nonsensical route to my destination trying to find prime foliage for a nice snap or two. Indeed I got a good look at the mountains but the foliage was pretty dismal. After waiting weeks for it’s late arrival we immediately got rain afterwards… for several days. Now the trees are mostly bare. SIGH. Still, I did manage to find a trail…
I’m struggling to figure where it was exactly but I believe I just found the tail end of the Common Trail off of Grove street. There was a turn off right next to the bridge so I decided to check it out. As usual it was where I needed to be, a serendipitous and joyful experience. It wound close to the river and provided a wonderful flat walk for most of the way.
Rivers have become a source of great spiritual connection for me. Whenever I am down, hesitant, or anxious I seem to serendipitously find a river to play in. There’s nothing like a good river. Today I found a little bench halfway up the path that denoted a sweet little spot to while away the hours. There were some rocks jutting out clear to the middle and I forsook the bench to crawl out upon them. Here I sat with the gurgling of the water blocking out all other noise, the smell of the crisp autumn air mixing with that of the fresh cold water, allowing the sun to kiss my cheek as the water flowed beneath my feet. Nothing else mattered anymore, I was instantly overtaken by a sense of absolute zen.
It has become a custom of mine to splash in the water of any river I come by, reciting the closest thing to a prayer I will ever utter as I bathe my arms and hands in the brisk churning waters. “May you take away all negativity in my life and wash it down stream. May only positivity flow towards me.” Perhaps this is why rivers have gained such spiritual meaning for me. Rivers don’t stop for anything. Whenever they come across an obstacle they still a find a way, making a space for themselves even when there isn’t one. It’s a lesson I try to keep close to my heart as I overcome obstacles in my own life.
I watched the river for probably an hour. No other people came by but a squirrel and a chipmunk did visit for a while and a frog tried to commit suicide darting under my feet in the same second I was stepping down. How he escaped that I don’t know but I nearly took a header into the river trying to avoid crushing the poor little beast!
Today’s my birthday. It’s also the first day in weeks I have been well enough to leave the house for an excursion longer than grocery shopping. Being cooped up, and feeling myself age like a fine wine, I was desperate for some fresh air. Sadly it was raining… apparently everywhere. I wanted to go to the White Mountains, raining, hike up one of the local mountains, raining, go to Vermont for some foliage photos, raining. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer though, I NEEDED TO GET OUT. 
That’s how I ended up in Mason NH. I had this gut feeling that I’d just know when to turn off. And wow. Despite spending some of my childhood in Mason I know remarkably little about it. There are winding dirt roads everywhere with just stunning views of forest and trees, hills, pastures, farms, huge farm houses, tiny cabins, just such a wonderful diversity! Yep… this was working. This was feeding something in my soul that was starving. It fit in nicely with the music I have taken up listening to once again – a poignant and heady mix of 60’s folk and classic rock. I’m thirty-two years old today and I feel like I can almost see time passing me by. I don’t have a career, a home of my own, a relationship, or children, I blow effortlessly in the breeze like a leaf gliding to the earth. Perhaps that is why I had the ethereal tune of Can’t Find my Way Home whispering through my mind all day. “Well, I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time
I had looped around a great deal of dirt roads and kept coming back to the 143 so I drove that for a little while until I spotted a big green sign aside the road denoting a historical landmark. As it turns out I had driven to Uncle Sam’s childhood home. I didn’t even know he had any connections to New England. I parked aside the road, took a photo of the sign and the house which was obviously owned by someone who I was hoping wasn’t home and watching, and then meandered only about 50 or 100 feet down the road where I noticed a trail head. Yup, this is where I was supposed to be. I could feel it.
It was cold. And wet. And cloudy. My camera wasn’t happy with any of these conditions but I told it to buck up, we’re doing this thing. It actually turned out to be a sweet little trail! The rain made it all the more magical to me, the damp seemed to add a sense of whimsy. Moss covered rocks lined the path to either side, a few stone walls were scattered throughout likely marking property boundaries from a few hundred years ago, and since it was such a wet day there were salamanders everywhere. They were the bright orange kind you see so frequently here if you’re the kind of person who looks under damp logs which I am.
The salamanders weren’t the only critters out today. I also go to see a number of chipmunks. For being so common they sure are hard to photograph! I feel the aggravation of wildlife photographers as I set my eyes on these tiny fuzzy beasts. They chipped and alerted me to a spot a little off the path which had clearly been used as some dumping ground for spare metal and glass at some point. Pieces of cars and machinery I couldn’t identify scattered the ground next to a rusted out metal wash basin filled with broken glass bottles from God knows when. I inched up to it slowly, hoping it wasn’t an active campsite of someone who was just deranged. Luckily it wasn’t and I took a moment to look at the rust and decay. I smiled knowing nature was taking care of this mess.
Towards the end of the trail was I super happy to find a huge cluster of mushrooms which I think were Hens of the Woods, edible. I am not that ballsy to try my hypothesis but I did enjoy finding them! They smelled delicious – which probably means I’ve misidentified them and can kill a small village with them. That tends to be how these things go… In any event I took a photo of this find next to my shoes to compare them for size.
Today was everything I wanted last Friday to be – absolutely amazing. And all I had to do was wander off while trying to go to the feed store for bunny food. I hardly ever just go out to do errands anymore. Somehow I always manage to find myself falling down the proverbial rabbit hole again.
This place was swank as far as trails go! It had a memorial rock right at the entrance as well as a mailbox full of maps and a guestbook. Whoever left this place must have been loaded – as most of Sharon is. And wow! It was breath taking!
I had thought I was alone you see… I mean who else would be here, there were no cars… and that’s when, bitching vocally to the camera, “Focus damn you!” three people came striding by to see my sorry butt in the air, my slacks sagging (from loss of weight and lack of belt) and my drawers hanging out, standing on all fours on the ground trying to get just the right shot of an adorable mushroom I found. Who knows what they think I was doing, either way everyone avoided eye contact. And not long after that a woman came by with her young son. It was all rather sweet.
The trail went on quite a ways and ended at a little bridge where it connected to another trail that went… .who the hell knows! Another trail off the main one was labeled, “woodland trail” and that one was a loop trail. I didn’t get to explore it but this preserve had a sign saying it was still open in winter for hiking. I suddenly need snowshoes. I thought I’d be cooped up for these cold dark months but maybe not. All the women in my life keep yelling at me – for getting lost, for having too much “bravery” to go charging into strange woods alone, for just generally being adventurous, but you know what? If I get eaten by bears then so be it. At least I died doing something I loved. And besides I have yet to see any bears but now that I said that there will probably be a plague of them on my next little jaunt.
Anyway, this place was soooo pretty and relaxing I would suggest it to anyone. Truly delightful. I am calm once again! Even more so my mind is sparked and enthusiastic. I dream of someday owning a property much like this, hopefully with a river running through it, so I may also create a hiking trail for the public, winding through the woods, past fairy houses placed by local artists, and past my little educational farm and back again. I can see it so clearly and I know in my heart working towards this goal is what I am supposed to be doing with my life – giving back, being joyful, becoming the wild child I always knew I was. Anyway, if that is something you would like to know more about feel free to check out my future farm’s page where I work towards this goal, philosophize, and sell my art: 
On my list of destinations I had several “castles” and estates that have been turned into public spaces for whatever reason. This was one of them and was situated at the end of a trail. There was supposed to be a trail head behind a local restaurant but there was also another entrance down a nearby dirt road – again a hard find. It was a set of steps aside the aforementioned road with a tiny cut off on the other side. Though it was poorly marked it was marked so we headed into the woods not really knowing what we’d find. Turns out hills. We found one steep hill after another that went deeper into the forest before dumping us out into a pasture and then at the top of the last hill a phenomenal view of everything below – a beautiful pastoral scene sprawled out ahead of us framed in the distance by the blue ridges of a mountain. A tractor plowed back and forth and a field of lilacs added additional color. I was already happy and we hadn’t even found the castle yet!
winding our way from the 
