my mountains

I’ve lived on an island for 22 years, yet every autumn when the air turns crisp, my mountains in New Hampshire beckon.

Sailing over the Kancamagus Highway last week with my curious partner in creative retreats, Kirsten, we saw sunset clouds tumbling over a ridge in the White Mountains.

We arrived at dusk at the Indian Head Resort, where I waitressed one season in high school.

The motel my parents owned down the road has changed owners many times since they sold it in 1977.  Yet Indian Head is remarkably the same as I remember it. We checked into a wee cottage with a gas fireplace for heat.

Before getting down to creative work in the morning, we played.

The next day I shared a favorite place, just up the road, the Flume Gorge. 

It was on my mind while I illustrated John Muir Wrestles a Waterfall, which will be released by Charlesbridge Publishing next year. The Flume Gorge was formed millions of years ago, and has been drawing nature seekers for centuries.

I felt Muir’s fascination with falls while working on this illustration for the book.

I never had the nerve to climb underneath one, though!

You can be humbled by forces of nature without getting wet.

On the 2 mile nature walk through the Flume, we crossed bridges and gazed at vistas. For sound effects, go here.

The visitor center is rich with history, including this story about the day a boulder crashed from the gorge.

I’m a huge sucker for souvenirs.

When this book launches in March 2015, you can bet I’ll be shouting from the mountain tops.