u/jb-wanders

5/23/2026 [Shakespearean English Version]

This morn, my wanderings led me hence, to Alton's bosom, and thence to where Mount Major doth stand sentinel. O, for a day so perfect, forged from New England's own celestial mould! The air, as crisp as a fresh-bitten apple, did kiss my cheek, and from yon heights, a tapestry of greens unfurled, where late spring painted verdant hues upon the trails. Lake Winnipesaukee, a sapphire gem, lay stretched below, her placid breast reflecting the boundless sky. The ascent, a joyous labour, did stir the blood and quicken the pulse, yet each craggy perch, a tempting pause, did bid me drink in all its glory. Upon the summit, a balm of wind, that mountain peace no mortal tongue can fully name, did whisper 'round me, whilst the lake, a sheet of polished glass, did mirror back the heavens, a spectacle to stir the very soul.