leaving vermont finding home

i've posted many pictures of my visits home to vermont on this blog.  i've talked about the people, the food, the family, the culture.  i've shown images of boats, farms, civil war re-enactors, and very old gravestones.

my return to los angeles was especially difficult this time around.  maybe because it's summertime and LA is packed with sweaty drivers, filled to the brim with brown air, and slathered in a thick layer of filth that only a week-long rainstorm could wash away.

we had perfect weather in vermont.  my mother complained of the haze on a hike up to sunset ledge, but one might as well take issue with their creme brulee being too hard to break into.  we hiked, we sailed, we swam, we ate.  we buried my mother's mother on a sunny day atop a hill, overlooking wide skies, tall trees, and distant mountains.  appropriately, she was an artist and had a gift for making things beautiful.

and maybe it was hard to leave because i'm afraid i won't be able to continually uncover the beauty of my home in what zappa called "the cesspools of excitement".  that, and there are no maple creemees here.