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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, January 14, 2011

January...

The middle of January already. Only two and a half? More months till signs of spring.
When syrup making begins and snowdrops come up through the earth, I know I've come through one more winter at Quarry Hill.
In days of yore, we would spend our winters at our cabin(s) on a lake in the National Forest in Florida, swimming and watching the beautiful sunsets. But now, work and various duties keep us here. I hope one day to be able to return to our lake in the woods in the winter, and swim on the beaches of my second home state.

Irving, before he died in 1990, dreamed of being at the ocean and, as he said to me, "There I was, at the ocean." (Barbara says he dreamed of looking back and seeing his footprints in the sand, and thought that it was a dream of approaching death... but not such a bad one, I think. "Footprints in the sands of time..." A poem he knew well, may have been in his subconscious at that time. (We dream of water, the ocean, when we draw near to the end of life, if we are conscious and transcendent people like my parents. Brion says it's the amniotic fluid before birth-- who knows?)
Barbara too just said she had had a dream of swimming in delicious shallow water in the ocean. I said, "Maybe you can go to the ocean next summer." She said, "But I don't want to go without you."
If she can make it, I'll try to get her to the ocean-- but I'm afraid her body might find the long trip difficult. I wonder if she would enjoy swimming in a swimming pool?
She is 91... (But still drawing beautifully)...

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