Stepped out the kitchen door this morning, surprising three wild turkeys. Big, healthy-looking buggers, who hurried immediately off toward the gravel road. Once there, they adopted a more dignified pace and an exaggeratedly casual air (as in Human? What human? We wanted to flee toward the road.), before disappearing into the woods across the way.
A whole different type of wildlife from the kind I've gotten used to in Madrid.
My bod has not yet completed the adjustment to this time zone, still waking up at more or less the same hour I'd be getting out of bed on the Iberian Peninsula. Not quite as drastic as a few days ago -- 5 a.m. instead of 3 a.m. -- but still substantially earlier than what I'm aiming for. The scary part: a fair number of folks in these parts get up at that hour by choice/inclination. Talk about alien life forms.
Yesterday a.m.: drove into Montpelier, discovered that someone somewhere had designated yesterday Vermont Independence Day. Not as in July 4th, with people in shorts hoovering down burgers, dogs, ice cream, beer while waiting for fireworks -- as in calling for the Second Vermont Republic.
The blue, gaudily-painted Bread and Puppet Theater bus had been parked in the lot behind Town Hall, a crowd of people milled around, getting a parade ready to swing through town. Banners, flags, a goofy marching band. A guy on stilts in an Uncle Sam outfit. A coupla really tall puppets. Stuff like that. I stood out in the street watching, passersby catching a glimpse of the activity and immediately regressing to childhood in attitude and energy at the sight of the big puppets, at the simple possibility of a parade.
Eventually, marchers lined up (sort of -- an anarchists' version of lining up), the band began cranking out a marching tune of a distinctly New Orleans flavor. At the sound of music, traffic stopped, sidewalks quickly filled up, smiling police officers ensured that no cars travelled along the route between Town Hall and the State House.
And here's the thing -- was this a normal parade? No! It was a wacky street procession trumpeting the idea of state secession. Did that bother anyone? No! Everyone cheered the music and the bus and the band and the big puppets and the goofy costumed folks weaving through it all on rickety bicycles and roller skates. Everyone knows the odds are slim that Vermont will be pulling out of the Union any time soon. And everyone loves a parade. So what the hell.
Later, back home. Mid-afternoon. Clouds quickly moved in, the wind rose, sudden rain fell. A downpour, brief but serious. The clouds then moved off, sunshine returned. But the temperature fell a good 20 degrees, since then it's looked and felt like autumn around here (minus the color show). When I raised the dining room shades this morning, the outdoor thermometer read 40 degrees.
Summer in northern Vermont.
Madrid, te echo de menos.
rws 7:39 AM [+]
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