Judy. I’ve never spent much time in New England or the Mid-Atlantic states, so I was surprised and delighted to discover the authenticity of the towns and cities here. I’m so used to towns looking just like any other—I could be in Atlanta or Denver, and, unless I saw the signs, or spent more than a few days there, wouldn’t know for sure just where I was. The plethora of big-box stores and restaurants makes all those towns seem alike.
But here in the Northeast, cities seem to celebrate their own individuality. Mom and Pop restaurants, home-grown hardware stores, and patriotic bunting everywhere lead me to believe that this is the home of America’s grit.
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| Foothills Restaurant in Sandwich in an 18th century house |
As we’ve hiked portions of the Appalachian Trail, we see the massive stones that our forefathers and -mothers dug out of the ground to clear space for crops. The stone walls they built with those rocks still stand, even if some are crumbling a bit. This was no Utopia they came to. The work they put into making it their own was overwhelming to me. They must have really wanted to come here.
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Remnants of a once-thriving village in New York. Rocks pulled out of the ground.
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| How did they survive this rocky ground? |
The South, where I grew up and live, has a different vibe. My ancestors, escaping religious persecution, had warm weather and months to build (in many cases, with enslaved peoples) their homes. Buildings are bigger, more sprawling, and I love that.
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| This old general store really is old and general |
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| Burlington, VT, has retained much of its charm |
But the Yankee fortitude as seen in the tight, small houses tell me the winters were harsher than mine, and that the stones not dug by autumn would be waiting in spring. The flags and bunting here have a different meaning. Nothing political, just a proud celebration of 250 years in the making of a young country. We may be still figuring everything out, but the fortitude I see here stands strong and brave.
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| Banners like this were everywhere. |
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