People, lost and found.

I am writing this from somewhere in Vermont. I couldn’t even tell you where this cabin is, location-wise. Not exactly. Northern Vermont? Western Vermont? Eastern? Southern? I could guess, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you for sure. I couldn’t tell you the best restaurant in town. What I’m doing tomorrow morning, or tonight. Where the trails lead outside. For the first time in years, I’m in a new place and I know almost nothing about it.

Usually, when I visit a place I haven’t been to before as an adult, I know everything about it by the time I get there. I have researched the best places to eat and drink. I have traced exactly how far it is, by car and by foot, from where I’m staying to everywhere else I want to go. I have a detailed itinerary, a plan for each day, and I usually wake up each morning with a clear vision for it all, right down to the exact spot in which I’m going to drink my morning coffee. Travel is travel, of course, so even my most detailed plans often evolve or fal…