By Merisa Sherman As a child, Christmas in our house was absolutely perfect – and was always a party.  Friends and family would gather, Christmas music would be blaring and trays of hors d’oeuvres were placed in different rooms as there were always too many people to squish into the one room where everyone wanted…

By Merisa Sherman We arrived at the boat launch with the best on intentions. It was Thanksgiving and we wanted to do all our favorite activities before settling down to eat as much food as humanly possible. The idea was to sneak in a quick lap around the pond on our way up to go…

By Merisa Sherman After 252 days, Killington Resort finally reopened to the public for skiing and riding this past weekend. For so many reasons, there was absolutely no place else that we have wanted to be for the past eight months, to remember the feeling our skis and boards gliding underneath us as we meander…

By Merisa Sherman We pulled into an empty parking lot and raced down to the water, amazed that we are even still paddling this late in November. The BF unstrapped the canoe in record time while I grabbed our dry bags and paddles from the back seat. We could see the sky begin to hint…

By Merisa Sheman The yard was covered in white. I mean, really covered in white. It wasn’t that pathetic little amount that we got on the first snowfall last week where you talk yourself into thinking that there’s probably enough snow to ski some laps around the yard before the snow is all gone. This…

By Merisa Sherman It has snowed before and it will snow again. As the world swirls around us like snowflakes in a mid-winter storm, I find comfort in these words. I find that I repeat them to myself, like a comforting mantra, while I focus on my breathing. I let the words wrap around me…

By Merisa Sherman Anticipation coincides with the rumble of the engine, as you switch from the pavement onto one of Vermont’s gravel roads. It’s past foliage, so reddish-brown leaves line the sides of the road like a rural sidewalk. Or it’s late spring and the leaves are their brightest green, weighing down the branches as…

By Merisa Sherman It starts the night before, as people start noticing the slight changes in the weather. Perhaps someone close to them has mentioned the forecast they have been following. You watch as your neighbor reaches for an old canvas to cover their most precious plants. Arriving restaurant guests remark on the bitter cold…

It began as a hike like any other. We met at the trailhead and slung our backpacks on our shoulders and pulled our sunglasses down to block the blinding autumn sun, while relishing the warmth. We started one way, and then abruptly changed our minds; we would walk straight up the big ascent first: a…

To hear the pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the tent or that faint trickle of water running down the fly and outward from your head can be wonderful. The soothing sounds of raindrops carry you off to sleep, like a baby being rocked by its mother. Snuggling deeper into your sleeping bag to…

By Merisa Sherman As we topped out, I could see the mountains spread majestically before me, layers of ridge lines fading to an almost blueish gray in the distance. The once green landscape was now filled with a myriad of colors, vibrant reds, stunning yellows, contrasting browns and the always present sections of dark pine…

By Merisa Sherman Modern times call for faster cars and smoother roads, easing the methods of travel so we can get there quicker or go further. We are all trying to play keep-up by having the latest and the greatest, our noses glued to the blue light that comes out of our phones and rushing from…

By Merisa Sherman As silly as it sounds, in my household the changing of the leaves brings thoughts of the first snow and conversations on when exactly that might potentially happen. Maybe it’s more thoughts of the first frost but it does still involve internal discussions of whether that frost could be potentially skiable in…

By Merisa Sherman It all starts with a single leaf. There she would be, lying alone in the middle of a parking lot or a field. Without any of her friends around her and oftentimes no discernible origin. It’s usually a day with just a little breeze, a touch colder than normal but with enough…

By Merisa Sherman With my eyes focused upward, my feet found their places without hesitation. My feet didn’t need my eyes to tell them where the rocks and roots were, they just slid into place like they had so many times before. I felt my right femur swing outward, moving around a larger boulder and…