By Merisa Sherman Almost every morning this summer, I have been awakened by the sound of the clouds dumping rain. From one up to five inches an hour, the rain creates an almost demeaning sound on my metal roof. The rain has dominated this summer. I can see hints of color in my garden, but…

By Merisa Sherman I am lost to the beat. I can not only feel the rhythm of the drums washing over my body, but I can feel the beats coming through the earth and into my feet. My arms fly out- ward to the sky and out to my sides, swimming through the air with the movement…

By Merisa Sherman The mud oozes through my toes as I take another step along the soaked path. I can feel how slippery the soil has become, the ball of my foot sliding back a bit with each step. My heel wiggles somewhat as I place it down, the ground moving all beneath me. But…

By Merisa Sherman His red, white and blue T-shirt hangs almost to his knees, with his little white shorts peeking out the bottom. Once long hair is now shaved short for the heat of summer, and the little boy looks around trying to gauge his surroundings. Too young to understand the ramifications, all he sees is…

By Merisa Sherman I watch with a gleeful satisfaction as the wood greedily soaks up the stain. The pale color of the pine is overwhelmed by the darkness, like The Nothing taking over Fantasia in the “Never Ending Story.” It seeps across the grain like tentacles as I swipe my brush slowly along the wood.…

By Merisa Sherman Together, my dad and I stood on a patch on snow just larger than our skis, looking out over the middle of Superstar. It was a perfectly gorgeous bluebird day in early June. There had been a good amount of snow on the headwall and there was plenty on the bottom, but…

By Merisa Sherman  I have to stop and take a few deep breaths to bring my breathing under control. I can feel my heart pounding as I close my eyes. There is no choice but to focus, no option but to regain control of my mind. My left leg is shaking violently, even as I ask…

By Merisa Sherman When I went for my garden tour this morning I found that something had started nibbling on a few of the 75 hostas that I divided and transplanted last year — you know, when we had lots of free time where we weren’t supposed to leave our properties. There was a pile of…

By Merisa Sherman I can feel it pulling me, step by step I move further into the darkness. The deeper I go, the thicker the leaves become until the only sunlight is sprinkled on the ground like glitter. I can only follow the trail, as it winds its way through the trees. A dirt path,…

By Merisa Sherman It’s that fun time of year, when there’s a fly in my ear. And my eye, and nose and also my beer. There is so much greatness in Vermont and such wonderful people, oftentimes it feels like we are living in a dream world. The green mountains, trails that wind through and…

By Merisa Sherman May is the best adventuring month. I’m not even debating about it. Once May rolls around, there is just so much excitement to be had — and the only negative is choosing what to do each day. Paddling season is cruising along and the ponds were just restocked for the season. The…

By Merisa Sherman We pulled into the boat launch just before sunrise, the darkness just lifting enough so that we could see to undo the tie down straps without any help from our headlamps. You could hear the scraping of fabric as life jackets were pulled from the car. In the predawn silence, the sound of…

By Merisa Sherman Holding my mug in my hands, I stare out the window at my garden. My forehead is almost pressed to the glass, the warmth of the morning sun just starting to take effect. I empty my mind of all thoughts, letting the sun soak into my bones as I close my eyes…

By Merisa Sherman I awoke to a deafening silence. The birds of spring, so vocal in their morning song, had vanished. In fact, there was no noise at all — an eerie silence had overtaken the earth. It was almost as if a sound absorbing blanket had been spread over the earth while we had…

By Merisa Sherman For a few days every spring, there comes a magical moment for paddlers in Vermont. A section of the Otter Creek swells over the road and fills in a dairy farm pasture. The fields and some forests fill with a few feet of water, making this a paddler’s dream adventure. For years,…