New Hampshire : Woodland Wandering

Far removed from the yellow light, the damp density and the life-sucking heat of the tropical rainforest of Trinidad and Tobago, Hanover, New Hampshire may be one of the happiest places on earth. The soft white light, fresh air and delicate blooms of the woods and gardens are a complete sensory somersault, at once both invigoratingly free and relaxingly mild. As 'an equatorial', I find nature to be unusually kind in these northern climes. (until the fall of winter of course, and if Game of Thrones has taught us anything, it is that "winter... is coming.") Nevertheless,

The air does not stifle. The bush does not strangle. The heat does not drain. 

The light is free of the yellow impurity, and the insects are courteous, not murderous. There are no mosquitoes hovering lustfully, their blood-bellies pregnant with ready salvos of dengue. One does not sweat from the simple act of movement. And if one were to wander off the neatly paved but always clear montane path?

Seating awaits, generously donated and erected by locals afraid of neither theft nor vandalism. 

In these forests, no one is kidnapped or butchered. Children play unfettered with public toys in public sandboxes, free to explore the nearby streams or frolic in the fern beds between the black verticals of tree trunks and the white diagonals of sunlight.

My friend above refers to Hanover as the happiest place on earth. One can appreciate why.

Observing the warming colours of the tree above, I should specify that these pictures were taken at the end of summer, and as such are not meant to depict the current horticultural and botanical condition of the area.

An upcoming visit over the thanksgiving break will provide a more current picture of the Hanoverian flora and fauna. From what I've heard, and what I've seen in Providence, I expect sparse branches, frigid air and a carpet of snow.

Creatures like the above damselfly will almost certainly have relocated or died.

Others, like the majestic Superwolf, will probably stay, enduring the cold days and long nights, dutifully poised at the front porches of their family dens.