Brittany Saulnier, our host for Day 15 of VerseLove2025, is the author of the short story LIGHT OUT in the anthology Just YA: Short Stories, Poems, Essays & Fiction for grades 7 -12. She is the co-creator of Read to Write Kidlit, a podcast dedicated to improving writing craft by talking with authors about their books.
She invites us to think of a recent memory where we were “in nature” and write a poem that highlights the three colors from our memory. You can read Brittany’s full prompt here.
We were out Friday for a snow day, even though we knew that our precipitation prediction landed squarely in the ice band. By 7:00, our town’s social media page was already drumming the dramatic beats of slippery roads and treacherous conditions – a doomsday snow day I don’t take for granted for one moment, particularly living on a pine tree farm. When these weak branches begin to bear the weight of ice, it’s only a matter of time before they snap and break across power lines, leaving us in the dark and cold. As I took our three schnoodle babies out at 6 a.m. for their first morning outing, they pondered only for a moment at the top of the porch before navigating a path straight over to the grass, descending like ducks in a row – avoiding the pavement.
They’re smarter than we give them credit for. Me? I would have boldly stepped down, slipped and fallen, thinking nothing about the danger lurking under the sparkles that appear to be grip-like for early morning feet finding their way. Lots of folks in Tik Tok videos apparently see the same footholds I perceive and go viral in times like these. I don’t want to be them.
We slipped back inside to the warmth after the boys took care of their business, and I turned on the gas logs and the heated sherpa throw (while power lasts) and steeped a cup of green tea with honey. No deadlines, no emails, no makeup or hurried pace. Just a book and a cozy chair by the fire…….next to the Christmas tree that is still up and may stay until February or March or even April in the relaxed ambition I feel in 2025.
My One Little Word for 2025 is enough. And I’m feeling that today. In fact, I’ll take a day like this more often.
After the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) Convention concluded in Boston on Sunday, my husband and I rented a car and started a loop through New England so that we could see a little more of the northeastern United States. Since we didn’t take a vacation anytime earlier this year, we decided to take a trip this week and enjoy some time away to relax and recharge.
I might be a pain as a travel companion. I’m pretty sure I am, because there was frost on the top of the car and I urged my husband to get up and watch the sunrise with me. On the rooftop of a hotel. When the wind was blowing so hard the seagulls were forced into changing course.
I can’t help it. There’s something exhilarating and soul-renewing about the way the sun casts a glow at the top of the day, as if it’s pouring the world a glass of orange juice to serve up energy for all the day brings.
We woke up in Kennebunkport, Maine this morning and did some exploring in that coastal town before driving across New Hampshire to Woodstock, Vermont to do more adventuring in another state.
A pano my husband took in Kennebunkport
Sunrise picture
Christmas tree being decorated in the middle of the street
We’re enjoying watching places decorate for Christmas. We found some men with a ladder decorating a tree in the middle of the street right in the heart of Kennebunkport. There was another crew hanging garland over the bridge, and still more putting out a reindeer with lights and a sleigh and a Santa and a snowman. Snowflakes with lights were hanging at the tops of buildings, and the festive feeling of Christmas was in the air. Some homes had pumpkins on the front porches and wreaths on the front doors, and I feel like I learned something important from that.
On the bridge in Kennebunport (it was so cold I had to buy a hat for my ears to stay warm)
My favorite stop of the day was the U.S. Post Office. I’d broken my own rules by taking 17 books from NCTE with no plan whatsoever for how to get them home in just the carry-on and personal bag I brought along. So I asked my husband to find a Post Office, and one was right down a side street from the middle-of-the-road Christmas tree. I purchased a box, the kind that you peel the sealing tape off the side, scribbled my address in the TO space, and mailed these signed volumes home to myself at the book rate.
The fun came in the place and people, and I’m convinced that the actual Post Office is a character all by itself, with its very old doors that I wished had a register of all the people who’d ever entered and exited. I felt I’d stepped back in time to the 1940s. My next goal is to research the history of the building with its tiny mailboxes and the feeling of nostalgia here that had me wondering if ten thousand ghosts weren’t waving to me from the ceiling space. I saw live people coming and going, but the feeling of past was powerful here, kind of like mediums must feel when giving a fortune telling.
Then there was the man in line behind me, a gentleman of about 80, who was as kind and curious as humans come. He suggested I sit the box down when he saw me holding it so long, but by that time, I was next. He said it looked heavy, but I told him it was all books – and then he got interested……especially when I told him who’d signed them all. Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, Kate McKinnon, Bryan Stephenson, Ada Limon, Sy Montgomery, Matt Patterson, and more.
I kept wondering what was taking so long – – until I got to the window and figured it out. The Postmaster was a character, too – maybe the main one. He was about 70, hilarious with his jokes and fun. His piercing blue eyes and his mannerisms took ahold of me. He had to read the whole script, asking me if I had…..”anything perishable…..any batteries….anything liquid…” even though I kept saying no and had read the screen and pushed the NO button. He smiled a little and peered up over a raised bushy eyebrow atop the rim of his glasses so I would know it was a game. Then, when I asked for elves holiday stamps to mail postcards to the grandchildren, he told me they’d just gotten those in from Graceland, handing me two books. “You know, where all the Elv(i)s live!” I laughed the corny joke laugh, smiled what felt like the realest smile I’d smiled all year long, and wondered why every place couldn’t feel this unhurried and fun. Especially at such a busy time.
Then I stepped back out the doors into 2024.
Look closely for ghosts. I swear they are here somewhere.
My husband’s favorite stop of the day was the Bush compound, and we caught sight of three people walking. We couldn’t tell who they were, but we know someone was home since the flag was up to indicate their presence – plus, we saw several cars including the tell-tale Secret Service black SUV. This was an unplanned stop on the route, but one we both enjoyed. Even though we didn’t get that invitation to come in for a cup of hot chocolate that we stood there hoping for.
When we finally arrived in Woodstock, we went to The Vermont Flannel Company on the suggestion of a friend, who had been during her fall break last year and loved the place.
The bad news: I couldn’t buy a blanket because…… only a carry-on and a personal bag.
The good news: I couldn’t buy a blanket because…….only a carry-on and a personal bag.
I could live in their shirts and wrap up every night in those cozy blankets. And I see why the flannel is such a hit here. It’s freezing. And the Georgians? Yeah, we brought denim jackets and thin nylon windbreakers but no coats……that’s the other bad news. (I awoke early, and below is the forecast for today):
But onward we march, freezing and having a wicked good time.
The Vermont Flannel Company on Elm Street, Woodstock, VT
Daughter clicking her heels in the snows of Kentucky on Christmas Day
One of my creativity goals this year is taking more photographs. I’m not a talented artist who paints and draws, but I enjoy images and words. My daughters have always kept sketch pads and art projects going ~ they appreciate the spontaneity of lettering a Bible verse or sketching a face or landscape. I think “capturing the moment” is the artistic approach that appeals to me most. Life sometimes begs to be captured.
My daughters sometimes just doodle. They fill entire sketchbooks this way, savoring spontaneous bursts of creativity.
On a recent visit, my daughter asked me to share the photos we’d taken while we were out exploring in the snow. We’d worn our pajamas and snow shoes and had taken pictures of sunsets, snowdrifts, and squirrel statues. It’s the ultimate happiness for a mother, really, because pictures aren’t just pictures. They’re memories. That’s what she was really asking for ~ a jar of snow memory preserves. She wants to come back to our moments, just as I do. Score!
I’d given my daughter the camera and later looked back at all she had captured, like this birdhouse.
Something I hadn’t expected was the surprise of discovering photographs she had taken after I’d handed the camera over to her when I’d gone inside to thaw my toes. Scrolling back through these images, I found pictures I didn’t recognize. And then it hit me: these were images I was seeing through her eyes – the gift of glimpses that weren’t mine in the moment, but shared even now.
A favorite photo taken that day – sunset over the snow, and I think we photographed it at least three dozen times as it tucked itself into bed in the rolling hills.
And so I logged in to my photo processing account and ordered some snapshots on real photo paper. Over the next week, I plan to send her three or four each day to bring smiles and memories. She’ll make a photo collage that will keep this day, these special shared moments, forever etched in her heart.
I will, too.
Sunset over Burdoc Farms in Crofton, KY – White Christmas EveningAssortment of photographs I’ll send this week – making my creativity goals happen through smiles!
The start of a snowball fight……..I passed the camera off to Briar and launched an invitation to fun….
“Slow travel rejects speed, emphasizes soaking in the local culture, and encourages us to savor the journey, not rush it.” –The Art of Slow Travel, by Bhavana Gesota
Most everyone we told of our Christmas travel plans tried to convince us to rethink our winter camping journey in subzero temperatures.
"You might want to reconsider," they'd urged, each in their own way.
"It's going to be dangerously cold. How will you stay warm in a camper?"
We'd recently downsized from a 30-foot 4-season Keystone Outback to a 21-foot non-insulated 2022 Little Guy Max Rough Rider. We were looking forward to seeing what it was made of.....and, perhaps more importantly, what we were made of.
We weren't wavering on our decision. The plans were made, and we would set out with two full propane tanks, an indoor-safe propane heater, an indoor electric heater, a supply of firewood, and an electric blanket. We'd monitored the weather and were keeping close tabs on the conditions of the roads.
We weren't worried about the extreme temperatures, either. With three radiant-heater dogs (who sleep at our head, hips, and feet) and each other, we were looking forward to all the cozy snuggling and excuses to linger in bed with coffee and read or write or watch Netflix or listen to our favorite seventies bands until the sun came up and warmed the walking trails a half a degree or more.
With any trip, things happen that we don't anticipate - - like when the bananas freeze and all turn dark brown and ooze goo, and the jar of olive oil freezes solid when we'd planned on searing steaks. Or when the propane, which converts from a liquid to a gas in the pipelines, freezes and renders that first heating plan completely ineffective, taking us straight to our backup heat. Those kinds of things. A few minor setbacks mixed in with some more serious ones.
So it is in life. Determination, a plan, a road map, forecasts, obstacles, challenges, a burning desire to experience life ~ even in extreme elements. It's all part of the journey.
I'm so glad we stayed the course and savored the moments. It was worth it to experience "slow travel," without a novel-thick itinerary, to "camp our way across states," breaking down the drive into short segments.
Here are the “Slow Travel” savored moments from our week away over the holidays.
First Stop: Burdoc Farms, Crofton, Kentucky. Most memorable moment: goofing off in the snow in our pajamas, taking pictures of the White Christmas winter wonderland as one of our daughters clicked her heels in sunset snow.
Second Stop: Rock Island State Park, Tennessee. Most memorable moment: enjoying the peaceful sounds of the waterfall at the dam.
Third Stop: Fall Creek Falls State Park, Tennessee. Most memorable moment: taking in the beauty and sounds of the frozen waterfalls and cascades.
Waterfall at Fall Creek Falls State Park, Tennessee
Fourth Stop: Harrison Bay State Park, Tennessee. Most Memorable moment: sunrise on the bay.
Fifth Stop: Red Top Mountain State Park, Georgia. Most memorable moment: writing all day on a rainy New Year’s Eve Eve.
Sixth Stop: Lunch with my aunt and uncle at OK Cafe in Atlanta, Georgia. Most memorable moment: sipping coffee at the retro dinette table, celebrating their December birthdays.
Seventh Stop: Home for New Year’s Eve with one of our sons. Most memorable moment: eating collard greens, black eyed peas, and ribs as we watched the Peach Bowl.
Experiencing places + savoring the journey through slow travel = just the right pace!
Common Threads 