Dear Roxana

It’s May now in Peacham and the weather has been unseasonable warm lately.  All but the smallest amount of snow remains on the mountains and gone completely from the lower landscape.

The days have gotten longer, which makes early evening walks just perfect.  The trees with their budding leaves, the tulips popping up, and the slopping hills covered in scilla.  The air seems to be filled with the sweet smell of maple, the smoke rising from the sugarhouses.  Being new to the area, we had our first visit to a sugarhouse.  We were introduced to sugar on snow, donuts dipped in warm maple syrup, and hotdogs boiled in the amber syrup and finally maple creamies.

The village corner is slowly coming back to life as the summer resident’s return.  Not to mention the cows after the long winter are filling the pastures with their black and white coats and sounds.  The stray cats in the village are seen wondering around, and the little chipmunks are exploring the yards for nuts they long since buried.

As I walk in the evenings, the air is full with crickets and frogs making noise and the dogs seem to enjoy running down the road to explore it all.  It’s turkey season and a neighbor stopped by to show your 5^th great grandson the first kill of the season.  He is excited to get his first.

It will be almost a year since we moved to Peacham and I find that I am looking forward to seeing folks that have been away for the winter and more community events starting again like the summer farmers market.  The market provides a welcome distraction on Thursday afternoons and an opportunity to see all the wonderful fruits, vegetables and crafts that people have been working on through the winter.  And since it’s just outside the back door, it makes getting fresh fruits and vegetables for dinner so convenient.

I was reading your letters recently you wrote to your daughter Martha, after her departure to Michigan.  I find myself about to say goodbye to my first born as he departs for college although not so far as Michigan.  And I wonder how you stood at that dooryard so often to say good-bye?

I go by your place of rest most days now, wonder if you know that at last some kin has returned to Peacham.

Your loving great, great, great, great granddaughter.