Fall Colors and the Vermont Falconer

One of the things I miss the most about Virginia are the fall colors. It's just not quite the same living in NYC where 'fall colors' means seeing the two trees in your neighborhood turn brown. However, my fall tree withdrawal was helped immensely by the trip Chris and I took last weekend to Manchester Village, Vermont. Even better was that the trip was free for us (a company retreat for my department) and a fun chance to get to know colleagues better and enjoy a gorgeous state expense-free.

We stayed at the Equinox Resort which boasts gorgeous grounds (the white building on left) and spa/golf course/off road/hiking/archery/falconry activities. Yes, falconry! In fact, on Saturday while I spent the day in the woods doing team building activities with my department, the "SO"s (significant others) got a stipend to enjoy the facilities and Chris took an hour of falconry lessons! You get your own bird (wingspan ~6 ft) and you learn about falconry, 'launching' your bird into the wind, and calling him back to your arm (protected by a thick leather glove). Chris has now legally changed his name to {deep voice} "The Falconer." [just kidding]

Sadly while the SOs were pampered, our department's day in the woods was in 8 hours of pouring rain, wind, and 41 degree weather... but as we all limped back home, the sun peeked out and we noticed a beautiful rainbow through the trees! [Insert metaphor about needing trials/rainy days to see rainbows].

We had a few minutes on our own Sunday before the bus whisked us away, and Chris and I enjoyed a stroll through the quaint Manchester Village streets (below). Even the train ride home was along the fall-painted Hudson River... all in all, a beautiful scene of autumn, a bittersweet goodbye to summer amid gorgeous colors!








Autumn, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!