The day we arrived at our destination in the Waterville Valley, we settled into a cottage that we were long familiar with, unpacking our clothing and some housewares we usually take along for my convenience of use in the kitchen, although it does come fairly well equipped with basic kitchenware.

That takes some time, and was accomplished after we spent some time getting re-acquainted with our hosts whom we've known now for over a decade.  A more accommodating, friendly and personable pair would be difficult to find anywhere in the world.

Then we had to drive to the closest supermarket just outside the closest town to where we were staying, to stock up on food for the coming week. We thought we'd sneak Riley in with us, settling him down as usual in his over-the-shoulder carrying bag, but soon discovered there was no need to try to hide his presence. In fact, someone stopped to tell us just that; another shopper who had noticed my husband's attempts to hide his presence. She laughed, and told him no one would care.

And soon afterward, in fact, we saw another woman walking a small dog on a leash in another aisle, and felt reassured enough to put Riley in his bag fast asleep, exhausted after sleeping for so many hours on my lap during our drive, onto the child seat of the shopping cart we were using. And then we proceeded at leisure to fill up the shopping cart, making our selections together.

The following morning after breakfast we set out on our first hike of the week, and decided since the rain was holding off, under a darkly cloud-bruised sky, to make it a long walk. As a result, we took the circuit at Smarts Brook Trail, one of the most scenic mountain trails and certainly a favourite of ours, taking our time, dawdling to admire the landscapes in miniature we came across in the forest as we proceeded.

And felt grateful for everything; our health, the opportunity to indulge ourselves in what we appreciated most; the proximity to nature and our part in the total scheme of life and biology, and whatever we might come across to surprise and delight, from flowering dogwood, to the bright pink lanterns of Ladies Slippers, flowering bunchberries, and the perky, tiny bells of lilies-of-the-valley, to long, intricate fronds of Ostrich ferns, and the blustering, rushing waters of Smarts Brook itself, raging down the mountainside and across and over huge boulders strewn on its raceway by ancient rockfalls.