Welcome to “Dear Daybreak”, a weekly Daybreak column. It features short vignettes about life in the Upper Valley: an encounter, some wry exchange with a stranger or acquaintance… Anything that happened in this region or relates to it and strikes a contributor as interesting or funny or poignant—or that makes us appreciate living here.

Want to submit a Dear Daybreak item? Just go here!

Dear Daybreak:

When we moved “out of town” in 1994, we discovered that we had a great sliding hill. For years, our children’s friends, hockey teams and guests at our New Years Eve parties enjoyed the thrill of gliding down on sleds, snow tubes or whatever sledding device they had. Fast forward to a recent weekend, when our granddaughters, 4 and 2 had the same thrill. Time stood still, and all the memories came flooding back. A full circle moment on a cold winter’s day.

— AnnJane Kemon, Hartford

Dear Daybreak:

mid- morning I catch a cloud wing stretched across the sky it Exists ! but for a moment

blue! yes blue takes over stoically

a large chunk of ice I had been commiserating with about “ being hard” succumbed to a spell of merciful warmth and let go

leaving me with the feeling

    *that now

I am the one still holding on but debating…*

— Rose Loving, Tunbridge

Dear Daybreak:

Some years ago, I lived on a dirt road in Orford. One evening, when I was driving home in a sloppy-wet late winter snow storm, I rounded a bend on my narrow, wooded road to find a fallen tree blocking the way. There was no place wide enough to turn around, and as I was contemplating the unappealing option of backing my car for a mile, a vehicle arrived from the other direction.

We both got out of our cars and stood looking unhappily at the situation. The other driver was a woman I knew lived on my road, but with whom I’d never had more than a passing “hi” or wave from. She said, “I don’t suppose you have a chainsaw.” “Nope, sorry,” I replied. She shook her head. “I’m already late to pick up my kid in Lyme. She’ll be worried.” (I should note that we both knew there was no cell service along this road…)

I was tired; it had been a long day and I wanted to get home. “Let’s switch cars,” I suggested. “You can get your kid, come home the long way, and drop my car off when you get to my house.” “Wow, thanks!” she said, and we did exactly that. I got home, she got her kid, and by morning, someone with a chainsaw in their car had cleared the road.

I love rural communities!

— Beth Hilgartner, Barre