Alex Goes to Green Mountain College, Vermont
We headed up to Vermont bright and early last Saturday morning, after first depositing Alex’s girlfriend Katherine, a senior in high school, at the train station. Both are committed to making a success of the coming year, but I know they will miss each other terribly.
The day was gorgeous, with no sign of pending Hurricane Irene–besides, I thought, she is not coming to Vermont, anyway. We saved our appetites for the Trap Door Bakehouse and Cafe, with its spectacular view overlooking Quechee Gorge (see preceding post). The sandwiches and homemade pastries are simply divine–I had the Escargot–a beautiful confection wrapped in a spiral of almonds, cinnamon, and so many raisins spilling out I had to eat the breakfast pastry from it’s wax paper bag.
We arrived at 11:00 to much waiting in line–leaving Alex there while I took Tom on a quick tour of the grounds. It was his first glimpse of the school and I think he was impressed with the beauty of the campus and the fact that it is meticulously maintained–not always the case with the many small colleges we toured. We briefly looked over the organic farm, which is entirely student run. Alex loves the outdoors and was drawn to Green Mountain for its environmental studies program and outdoor adventure education leadership program.
By mid-afternoon, Alex was moved in and we were told it was time for parents to leave. He is going to be sorely missed and all the qualities that I love in him–his sense of humor, charisma, kindness, consideration, wit, and intelligence, I hope serve him well while endeavoring to meet new friends and on this adventure into higher education. I am looking forward to parent’s weekend, not too far off, in late September.
Anticipating the long drive home, we had asked the proprietors of the Trap Door Bakehouse to recommend a restaurant in Woodstock. Without hesitation, they suggested Melaza. The Caribbean inspired dishes were superb. I sampled the coconut-crusted shrimp from the tapas menu and mixed green salad with yucca, artichokes, and olives. Tom was raving about his chicken, but neither of us can remember what it was called. Ironically, our waitress urged us to stay overnight in Woodstock, to avoid Irene, because her brother had been evacuated from Newburyport.
The light was warm and luminous as we departed Vermont and the mountainsides were aglow with great fields of tall goldenrod, brilliantly illuminated by the low slanting rays of late summer sun. I am overjoyed for our son and hope with all my heart he will find happiness, where ever his dreams may lead.