Picking Rocks Again

  I love it, but every time I do it I am reminded of how exhausting it is.  We have been picking off the remnants of an old and toppled wall on a mountaintop in Hope for the last few days.  This one is long as hell and, incredibly, almost ten feet wide in spots.  Most of it is at or near ground level and much of it has long sunk into the earth, so that we find ourselves pawing downward into these little foxholes.  The stones are gorgeous, however, and worth every bit of effort; moss covered and lichen strewn with a wonderful variety of shapes and sizes.  The whole fifteen-yard load will be fully picked and ready for transport to Scarborough by the end of today.

  Then the ubiquitous amazing view that comes with working outdoors in Maine...

  Then this happened on the way home... in the valley... in the fog... and snow... as the sun went down...
it was terrible...