Post by Grubb.
It’s Saturday. We’ll be in Rhode Island tomorrow. So after our visit to the American Museum of Fly Fishing and the Orvis fly fishing flagship store, we paid our respects to the rural American poet Robert Frost who, back in the day, had a cabin in the Green Mountains. So one last hike into the foothills of a mountain that rises behind the Equinox Hotel.
We followed the trail to Equinox Pond. Along with about a hundred other people we passed by along the way. Packs of college kids, families, dog trotters, couples, a few joggers, the hills were alive with traffic. Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” came to mind. Sorry, Robert, we took the path “more traveled by.” We had more luck with Thoreau. The pond was a pond with no aspirations to anything larger.
The pond had been quiet, but back in the parking lot I heard the buzz of some loud out-season-insect. A giant wasp feeding on maple syrup? I looked over in the direction of the sizzling sound and there was a guy leaning against his car flying a drone.
