there are some things
we would like you to
see, and they start here:

Vermont, One Year Out

Loggers sit in a valley at the center of town. A pit, really, with a river running swiftly through-- maybe the fastest thing in town. There's a bar or two and a 'fancy' restaurant but nothing looks that busy. The cafe is staffed by girls with things in their hair who seem more occupied by chatting than cooking. I'm particularly impressed by the fact that the possibility of an after school job is still alive and well here. Outside it's spring and the air is chilly more than cold; a little painful in the lungs but offset by a strong sun.

It's a comfortable but strange gestalt. White churches, white fences, small houses, old streets, ragged trees and territory. Views across vast expanses of land that's only nominally claimed. Horses and cows and all the things of farm life are here transposed into miniature dioramas of resistance and decay. "Live free or die."

With the sun gone hours ago and my hands still water logged, I pull out of the driveway in a rented truck. The slow crunch of tires on gravel is a familiar sound and the moon is bright enough to compete with the neon adorning a singular gas station. They give me incorrect directions and I set course for another city four hours away.