I was born in a half-finished house in the woods and named after the bird that sang through the open window. Thus: woodbird. Now I live up the road from that house, in another one surrounded by trees, in a region where the winters are phenomenally long and the summers heart-breakingly short. Woodbird is an attempt at connectivity. An attempt to penetrate the trees and the darkness. An attempt to engage in and initiate dialogue about landscape, community, home, Vermont, belonging, and unbelonging; a place to investigate beauty, spread the word about good things, and best of all, connect with like-minded souls, wherever they may be. I thank you for being here.
Robin, I admire you so much.
Thank you Kate! And I so admire your journey, and look forward to reading more from my small cabin in the woods. What a gift, this vicarious living (and the words that make it possible).
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