If you think about the movement in the seasons in Vermont, there is a pause that happens every year right now. It’s as though some seasonal archer has spent the warmer months pulling an arrow back in his bow, loading it with potential: the frantic movement of summer, the bike rides, the swimming holes, the barbecues and outdoor concerts. We get caught in the urgency to fit it all in, to soak up as much of the goodness, the warm sun, the freedom of June, July and August before things peak in October. Before right now.
In Vermont, we see a yellowing in the trees. The nights are cooler. The tension is drawn. This place where summer is pulled back, trembling a little before shooting into fall, before the frantic winter, holidays and snow, this is where we get just enough room to peek back at what we’ve done.
While it was still summer, we welcomed a new leader to the company. We built some amazing new gear. We went to the dogs. We explored what went into our clothing. We ran. We rode. We designed catalogs. We shot photos. We went to the beach. We paddled. We played lawn games. We cultivated new wool fabrics. Yep, it was an awesome summer, a complete summer.
Now, this little grace period before time’s arrow shoots into fall doesn’t last. We’ll be deep in Orchard visits and exploding foliage in no time. But as a highlight that comes with living in Vermont, this fleeting break between summer and fall stokes our excitement for the other side of the calendar, the time when layers of wool hold in the bits of summer warmth we’ve stockpiled and when we see the work we’ve done, the clothing we’ve built, hit the mark for the friends and fans of Ibex.
Happy no-longer-summer. Merry-not-quite-winter.
Words by Andrew Gardner
Green Mountains from Pico Mountain Killington, VT Photo Credit: Ryan Phelan