I’m a white person living in a predominantly rural, white state, and a queer mother, doula, writer, organizer, educator, and facilitator living in perilous times.

Like many Vermonters, one of the state’s most important artworks spent last winter in Florida.

Slowly, I edge down the forty-five degree slope, on rain-slick pine needles and maple leaves. I’m in waders with fishing rod and wading stick in one hand, reaching for saplings with the other, and impatient to get to the river.

Sometimes less is more. This primary season, for those of us living in multi-seat districts, checking the box for just one candidate might make the most sense.

I was chatting with a young technician at my local hospital recently, and I asked her if she gardens. “Yes,” she said. She was just getting started, loved lilies and had planted several. "Oriental, Asiatic, or Daylilies,” I asked.

Ninety school districts - about a quarter of Vermont’s communities - have proposed meeting Act 46’s goals through collaboration rather than formal merger.

The United States Supreme Court leads the third branch of our government, and in its best moments, it’s been a place where people with less access to opportunity have gained a better footing in our society.

In 1793, the ruler of the Earth’s richest and most powerful nation met with a delegation from what was then part of the developing world seeking to establish trade relations.

“This is the classic traveler’s nightmare,” I thought, as I stood beside the airline baggage claim carousel in a rapidly thinning crowd.

My favorite way to recover after a hot afternoon’s hard work has always been to chug down a quart of ice cold water from a Mason jar and then jump into a clear mountain brook or a neighbor’s pond.