This must be the place: ‘In the woods from far away, from across the fields and pastures, in the cool misty morning air’
Hello from atop the roof of my parents’ 1840 brick farmhouse. Some 20 feet up on the back end of the structure. It’s hot as hell walking across the old roof in the midday sunshine and heat of early summer in the Champlain Valley of Upstate New York.
This must be the place: ‘Oh to live on Sugar Mountain, with the barkers and colored balloons’
Hello from the Merritt Parkway in south-central Connecticut. It’s bumper-to-bumper traffic and has been since we skirted New York City and headed east. Exit 60 is Hamden, Connecticut, a town that I called home during my years attending Quinnpiac University.
This must be the place: ‘Cast upon a beach town, Winn Dixie cold cuts thieves highway hand me downs’
Right now, there are a handful of old cardboard boxes in the back of my girlfriend’s car. Inside the boxes are several dusty photo albums of Sarah’s past.