
Echoes from an Old Hollow Tree
The Liberty of Rootedness
<p>Here in the hills of inland New England, you could wander down the road this weekend into the village below. You will be going down to watch the fireworks with your family on the bridge that spans the lake as your friends and neighbors light them from a dock. It will be a little dusky as you walk down along the tree-lined road through the tunnel of green and everyone will be too excited, too full of anticipation of the night to come, to even mind the biting bugs that hatched in the humidity of the past week. That...






