Excerpt:
Waking up to drifting snow against our windowpanes last Sunday I was reminded again of why I love living in New England. The romance of snowy woods and twinkling lights through the shrouded dawn cause me to catch my breath every time. The tradition of the seasons, the poetry of life and the rhythms of New England are part of my soul.
Although I was born in Massachusetts I moved away in 1959 and grew up in the San Francisco East Bay in Northern California. There we had a four-hour car ride to the Sierra Nevada mountain range with its constant wintery snowfalls. It’s not quite the same, however, when your own home’s front walk and backyard aren’t part of the seasonal fairytale
