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…

By Merisa Sherman I could feel my braid begin to whip around in all directions behind me as we took off from the stop, leaving the dirt drive and heading out onto the pavement. My right hip dropped toward the road as my left side body squinched in an effort to stay upright. Slowly, the power…

By Merisa Sherman About three months ago, I was cocky and came into the Kent Pond parking lot a little too hot on my mountain bike. I felt my rear tire skid out as I hit the loose gravel but I was able to keep my bike upright ... until my front tire decided to turn…

It’s an age-old quandary by Merisa Sherman It’s an age-old personal and preferential question on which I have been spending time this week in deep thought. Maybe I even meditated a little on this topic, just to see if anything would pop into my brain while it was completely at rest. Nothing happened, but it’s still one…

By Merissa Sherman You can see the glow starting to grow between the trees and you know the summit must be soon and I quicken my pace to get to the opening. My right arm reaches around a tree and a swing my feet around to land on a rock just below. A few quick little…

By Merisa Sherman There’s a place I go to hide. It’s just a few paces off the beaten trail but somehow no one ever seems to be there. I maneuver past whichever old — but not quite rusted — pickup truck seems to be blocking my secret path that day and duck my head underneath…

It all begins with a sacred quest. To begin, one must have a vision of perfection that will undoubtably not be met but must be strived for in any case. One might journey deep into the forest, a solo mission filled with dedication to a high standard. A lone branch, peeping out from underneath a…