As if to make up for the difficult and relatively uneventful day that preceded it, this third day of traveling in Connecticut was full of traveling mercies–while nothing seemed to go as originally planned, that all made the day better instead of worse. When I consider all the days I have spent seeing the 50 states, this is one that stands out as perfect.
I started the day with what I thought would be a short stop in West Hartford to see the Noah Webster House and arrived to find a sign out front welcoming all visitors to a party. His 250th birthday had been that week, so West Hartford, his hometown, was putting on a celebration. The first event I encountered in the town square was a parade of dogs in colonial costume, which delighted Tamu–then 18 months old–and me both. Of course, I had packed nothing appropriate for him to wear, so he simply charmed from the sidelines (always dapper in black that boy), making friends with kids watching the parade. A fife and drum corps in colonial garb played at the Town Hall, craftsmen and women displayed colonial-era products, and a loudspeaker blared the names of townsfolk who had won something in the town raffle. Inside the school building, there was a Spelling Bee. I watched as shy fourth graders were called up to microphones that were too tall for for them to hear definitions of words like “erode” and “plunder” before they spelled them to the enthusiastic response of those in attendance. It was delightful. I had not been all that eager to see what I had on my list for Hartford itself, so I skipped the big city to enjoy Webster’s party. I returned to the Webster House for the tour, which was well done. It was the house where Noah Webster was born, not where he compiled the dictionary, so it spent time on the history of his family.
Because I stayed longer than expected, I decided to use the daylight as effectively as possible and head as far north as I planned, to the Litchfield Hills. I was following a winery map and wanted to do some tasting and walking about in nature. I stopped for a quick bite to eat and, as I was zooming northwest on a state route, I encountered a black bear. This one looked to be relatively young as he wandered out into the road and then disappeared into the trees. This was my third time seeing bear in the 50 states, and it is always a touch of luck during my adventures (so far, I have mostly been in my car and had little to fear in these encounters). I arrived at the Land of Nod Winery and told of my wildlife adventures over delicious non-grape wines and received an enthusiastic response. The wine turned out to be a real find, so I bought more than expected, got some good advice for walking in nature and headed out with Tamu.
The pourer had suggested that I stop for a walk with Tamu at nearby park featuring a furnace, Beckley Blast. Tamu and I walked through leaves and watched brown colored ducks at the stream there. This western part of the state felt less like New England than the Quiet Corner. The people had also been generous with helpful advice; a few folks from the winery joined Tamu and me at the park.
I made another stop at Norfolk to look at the Litchfield Hills. It was getting darker, so I thought I would not explore, but as I headed down the road, I came upon the entrance to a state park. I stopped to use the facilities, and discovered I was right at the Litchfield Hills so I stopped to watch the sunset there.
I had planned to stop at two more wineries after leaving the park, could not find one of them in the dark. I headed for another, but discovered I arrived about two minutes after closing. I lucked out again as another visitor had called ahead to say she was late, so the winery let us come in and buy. I went with an apple wine to complement the chill and color of autumn. Then I headed back to my hotel and managed to lose myself along the way. It turned out alright because I found a church where I could start my fourth day. It had been an abundant day in America.