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Welcome to Quarry Hill's Blog!

Quarry Hill Creative Center in Rochester, VT, founded 1946 by Barbara and Irving Fiske, is Vermont's oldest alternative community and at one time was probably also its largest. In the 60s -80s, as many as 90 people lived here.
It was and is visited each year, often in summer (but in every season, really) by visitors from all over the world.
We welcome interesting and creative people who are peaceful, bring no weapons, don't believe in hitting children or killing animals, and enjoy the beauty of Vermont and of themselves.

Most of us do not adhere to any particular dogma or religion, though many do find Eastern philosophy closest to our own thought (some of us are also members of the Quakers/Society of Friends).
We value the individual, particularly people who are energetic and have a sense of humor.
Visitors are welcome-- and prospective residents, too. There are some places for rent, others for sale. If interested, get in touch!
And, please follow the Blog and comment whenever you like!

"The symbol is the enemy of the reality, and the reality is ever one's true guide, true friend, true companion, and true self." Irving Fiske, 1908-1990

Friday, September 3, 2010

The most Zen-like thing to do would be to never post here...

But I probably won't be able to resist posting since I did create this blog. High in the Green Mountains, at the end of summer, I am looking out over the world and thinking about what is happening here and elsewhere. The early 21st century is certainly an odd place.
But then it is not always clear to me that we are in a particular time and place -- that we are "stuck" in that time and place.
In Rochester, my home town here in Vermont, a beautiful little town with about 1500 people, there is an old graveyard. Over the graveyard entrance is a black sign that quotes the Bible: "This mortal shall put on Immortality."  Growing up looking at that sign-- one of the things that has not changed at all over the years, and is still in the same place it always was-- I often thought, but aren't we immortal now? Here and now?
 At a very young age, I already felt immortal... and now, when I am older and mortality is supposedly closer, I still can't find the sense that there is an end. Or a beginning, for that matter.

It is a lovely, but very hot day, the end (they say) of a stretch of hot days, the zinnias reach out across a dirt path leading to my house, my Sheltie, Lochiel/Lucky, lies in the shade, and clouds are considering gathering in the soft blue, still summery sky.
Happy Birthday to Paula Sternberg Dougherty!

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