Cherished Chickens in Corn Country, Copious Candles, and Camping Classics
A Capricious Collection
The Chickens
This is MoonPie. It’s a long story, but we rescued her and her companion when they were abandoned outdoors in the middle of January. They’re silky chickens, which are smaller than some other breeds and lay fewer eggs.
MoonPie is a little bit softer and rounder than her counterpart, Marshmallow (a more severe, edgy woman). They both have beautiful blue ears.
Corn Country
Our house is across the street from a field, which is sometimes a hayfield and other times a corn field. In any case, there are corn fields down the road in all but one direction.
Despite the abundant summer corn, our town is actually better known for its potatoes.
Copious Candles
We are also locally known for our Luminarium tradition.
Every year in December, the streets are lined with hundreds of candles in a magnificent variety of containers. Some of my favorite candleholders are made entirely of ice.
People arrive from neighboring communities to see the glowing displays and attend accompanying events. Local folks drive through town pulling hay wagons adorned with Christmas lights, playing Christmas music and carrying guests.
The heart of lights is a favorite feature, and it shines on our little community year round.
Camping Classics
Massachusetts is over 65% forested lands, including state forests. We tent camp in a local state forest every summer and fall.
The park we visit is minimal, with scenic wooded trails and a crystal clear lake.
There are a few docks around the lake, good for fishing or launching small boats (no gas motors allowed). My favorite is this slightly crooked one.
The larger, flatter dock is our preferred choice for fishing. It also offers nice views of the shoreline and the sunset if the timing’s right.
In October, the park is quieter than at other times of year, but no less dazzling.
We have countless memories here (and countless photos): my husband has been camping in the same forest since he was a baby, as has our son. I think we could navigate the trails with our eyes closed, but we’re glad to keep them open.
Thanks, as always, to JoAnn for the guided walk down memory lane.
