Coming home last Sunday, I took the scenic route. Somehow my GPS knew that I had some time for exploring. (For an instrument so obsessed with the word “recalculating,” it is still pretty smart.) This is the Martin Bridge, a covered bridge built in 1890 on a Vermont farm. It is the last privately-constructed covered bridge in existence in the state and was designed to be especially tall to accommodate wagons piled high with loose hay. Feeling the need to stretch my legs, I wandered the property, found an old dump, and saw lots of red-winged blackbirds. The prize, though, was a bobolink. It looked vaguely familiar, but I had to consult the bird book at home to learn its name.
One thought on “The slow road home”
Felt an aura of peace as I read this post and looked at your photos; glad that you were gifted with this extra time to explore.