The other day, I heard on TV that voting for the 2008 presidential election was about to begin first in New Hampshire, in a town called Dixville Notch. This reminded my own days in New Hampshire. Time lapses fast, this was almost 15 years ago. I had lived there for more than six years, and those were the best time in my life. New Hampshire is a small beautiful state, with dense forest in the west and golden beaches in the east. People are friendly. There are small towns of USA with English names like Dover, Exeter and Rochester everywhere. The port Portsmouth, with a European style, is no different from any other small seaport in Europe. This reflects the strong Anglo-Saxon connections and colonial history of New England. I remember one time when I applied for a job in Europe, in the reply letter I was referred as from Hampshire in England.
My time in New Hampshire was relaxed, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle in the big cities like in California. In the summer, I drove on route 1A from Portsmouth all the way to the Hampton Beach. Along the route, I sight saw on scenery spots. While on the beach, I watched sunrise and the tide pounding back and forth in rhythmical motion; I walked in the sands and chased with my friends. There are many small islands along the coast of Maine, a state to the north of New Hampshire, where you can make day trips from New Hampshire. I remember that one time I drove all the way along route 1 north past Rockport to a small town called Lincolnville. There, I drove my car onto a ferry. Then, we were headed to Islesboro Island. While out of my car, I walked on the ferry, the breeze and seagulls are fused with the blue skies to produce a natural symphony. Summers were always lazy. Sometimes, I sat on the patio reading for hours without seeing a single soul. New England is famous for its golden fall. It had become a ritual. Every autumn, I drove at least once all the way north to Lake Winnipesaukee and the White Mountain to see the colorful maple leaves. Different colors of tree leaves not only forecast the coming of a cold winter, but also conclude a wonderful summer. In the winter, I always came out to see the white world. Icicles were hanging everywhere, from the branches of trees, from power lines, and from the canopies of houses.
“Live free or die”, the state motto, may be a slogan attempting to represent the spirit of the people of New Hampshire, but it does not harbor any connotation of cavalier attitude they show to others. New Hampshire, the Granite State, and my best memories, I would love to visit you again.