New Yorkers are strange creatures. One minute they’re working, the next minute they’re working out and then the next minute they’re out partying or writing or painting or doing something else.
I feel privileged enough to call myself a New Yorker, although being a magical creature is really hard, and most of the time I don’t get a chance to do the more fun things — like write or paint.
Lucky for me my roommate and her family decided to whisk me away to their home in Vermont for the weekend. I had been before but then it was to film a movie and now it was just for a nice, short vacation.
When I told my supervisor at my internship that I was leaving to Vermont for the weekend, she praised the plan and said that she had gone to New Jersey the weekend before, just to leave the city and come back refreshed. She wished the same for me and somewhere we both knew that I’d come back more refreshed from Vermont than she did from NJ.
Anyway, we left late at night after work on Friday and when we first arrived, I felt exhausted. So exhausted that all I could concentrate on were the bugs (VT has quite a summer selection) and fell asleep hard on the big, comfy guess bed.
The next morning however, I awoke to warm light streaming in through large windows, and a view of Lake Champlain that would make anybody appreciate nature. I felt well-rested and ready to roam through forest and glen — I also awoke surrounded by trees as my friend’s house is literally in the forest.
Instead of concentrating on how I disliked the bugs, I took pictures of them. I later discovered that these strange creatures are May Flies and they only live one day. They also attach themselves annoyingly on you when you’re outside, and they bleed blue blood. Ew.