Mysterock

Over Thanksgiving, I returned to our old Vermont house, and thus to Tagawott. In every person's childhood, there is a point when it is evident that childhood will end. One could argue that this precise moment of realization is the end of Childhood. For me, childhood was a topic of glorification for many long and conflicted years (conflicted yet happy ones?)...and just at that cusp of realization is when I made a sacred place out of the woods in Vermont. With respect to Terabithia and Idlewild, I named the "rooms" of the forest, and this boulder, Mysterock, was my first forest landmark. I wrote many diary entries there. I cried many tears there. I lingered there at sunsets and rushed out to sit there (despite the dew!) on vacation mornings.

So much has changed in the woods around our Vermont cabin, but Mysterock remains. It was good to be back in November!