A couple of weeks back, Tibby and I took a weekend off: no writing, no gaming, no social obligations, no work. We took three days to hang out in the fall colours and enjoy the turning leaves and some cider in the Green Mountains at a lovely little inn that served sizeable breakfasts with lots of Vermont maple syrup.
While walking around historic Stowe, one of the first things we stumbled across was the cemetery. It’s smack-dab in the middle of town, and kind of hard to avoid. I wrote a piece for The Midnight Society that starts at Old Yard Cemetery too.
It’s so small, it doesn’t even get an entry in Stones and Bones of New England.
