Autumn Days in a 1792 Farmhouse
Every fall the maple trees in New England turn crisp and vibrant, and woodpiles stack high, ready for winter. At our home, a fat porcupine sat perched between branches, eating the last of the apples on the tree.
In 2003 we moved from one US corner to another: offered a one-year job near Lyme, NH, we relocated our family near the Upper Connecticut River between Vermont and New Hampshire. We rented a farmhouse over 200 years old, situated on 11 acres of New Hampshire’s rolling hills, and saw the colors of New England first-hand.
Puffy and bright, the red clusters of faraway sugar maples blended with stunning yellows and oranges. Late September and October are brisk and color lavish, and for my three boys, leaping in 11 acres of crunchy leaves was pure joy, something they’ll never forget.