TO THE POINT

For the first time, I experienced frost. Living in a concrete jungle, I had never woken up to a thin blanket of small white crystals lining the grass. I walked out of my cabin and into the early morning cold to admire the white ground. My cabin mates all rushed out of the cabin, eager to make their first tracks on the frozen tundra. It was so exciting. I thought nothing could be prettier.

Then came the Saturday night which I will never forget. At around 6 o’clock, it started to snow. Big, fluffy snowflakes fell to the ground. After dinner, Ben, my math teacher, made an announcement saying that each cabin had to get a shovel so that we wouldn’t slip on our cabin steps. Michelle and I also got two shovels for the CEE. Without any gloves, we trod through the already thick and fluffy snow. We stopped and watched the white snowflakes against the black sky. After admiring the snowfall, we continued our walk towards the illuminated building. When we reached the boardwalk, we got ready to shovel, and in unison, we started to push. Without saying a word, we walked side by side, sometimes chuckling and sometimes listening to the trees whisper to us.

It was 7:30 p.m. We had been shoveling for twenty minutes. Our hands were turning purple and we were getting tired. The snow kept falling. We were scheduled to meet for Game Night at 8:00. We looked behind at the work we had already done. It looked like we hadn’t even shoveled. This was quite disappointing, considering we were very cold and we had been working for quite some time. We continued down the boardwalk and ran into Claire. We greeted her with shivering lips and acknowledged the fact that we were about to run into each other. I learned that it was Claire’s first time shoveling snow! Because of that, I left her a strip of snow along the bridge as thick as the shovel so she could get a satisfying run with the big tool.

Chewonki in the snow was gorgeous. I wish that everyone got to experience it. It was like you had stepped into the wardrobe in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Walking with my new friends, holding their hands and dancing in the snow– I could not have asked for more.

-Mia Ritter, New York, NY

It was the last night in my cabin and it didn’t feel real. It was Gordy Hall’s last discussion in bed. It was the greatest. I told Gordy girls some more things about me and I felt relieved. I felt relieved that I have seven girls that would be by my side forever. From that last night I knew that I would encounter these seven girls in my life again no matter where it be. The food, fun, music, love, and laughter we shared will always be in my heart and thoughts forever and always. The last night on the floor in front of our Christmas tree was the best night I could ever ask for with all of my new brothers and sisters. The last day was tears. But for the first time in my life these tears were different. These tears were tears of love and joy. Tears of reassurance, that our book would remain unfinished. These tears let me know that the Semester 43 friendship would continue to grow outside of Chewonki. Semester 43 you taught me how to love like no other, you taught me tons of emotions i never knew of. I love you Semester 43 and I can’t wait for our June 2011 Road Trip. xoxoxo

Forever and Always til the Wagon Wheels Fall Off,

B.Ritt aka Dr. Love lol

-Brittany Reid, Boston, MA

It was a clear August afternoon, the sun’s persistent rays shining through the wall of trees that obscured the sun itself; illuminating the vibrant grass, blades gracefully intertwined and the girl. She was sixteen approaching seventeen sitting amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces and looking up at her soon to be: mentor, teacher, and friend; but all these details were lost on her. She could only focus on one thing: he was so tall and his shorts were so short. This astute observation sent the girl into a fit of nervous laughter. Surrounded by people she barely knew, the girl wondered how the topsy-turvy turmoil of her life landed her in Maine, sitting in a circle with forty-one strangers and an abundance of bearded men.

The air was filled with anticipation as the girl opened the envelope. It felt heavy in her hand as she ran her fingers under the thin paper flap breaking the adhesive seal, breaking the final barrier between the girl and her aspiration. She opened the letter, focusing on the steady hum of the refrigerator as she unfolded her future. The print on the page seemed to disappear as the girl’s smile grew. She felt like a leaf floating on a crisp autumn wind; her joy uncontainable.

A warm breeze blew the girl’s hair from her face, carrying waves of chatter rising from the sea of strange faces and depositing them on her ears like waves crashing on a sandy beach. The girl’s voice melted into the sea of noise like a drop of water into the ocean. She turned to the right, describing her slightly exaggerated fondness for bicycle riding in exchange for strangers’ fondness of sailing, swimming and squash. The small exchange provided the girl with a buoy, keeping her afloat in the unknown. Bright blonde hair, a giggle and a pair of hanging earrings became specks of familiarity among the sea of strange faces. Little did the girl know these unfamiliar faces would become voices clear and distinct in a dark room. Voices she would miss very much and think about often. Voices she cared about, cherished and loved.

The fire cast dancing shadows on the whale bones that hung from the ceiling. As eighty-four eyes, the girl’s included, watched. They had all come from places so similar yet so different at the same time. They sat in the darkness sheltered from the storm that brought them there, sharing stories and reflecting on their time with nature; each voice cutting through the darkness like stars in the night sky. The girl lay on her back nestled between two friends, instinctively matching faces to voices. The strong friendships forged between the group warmed the girl from her core, the ember growing hotter and brighter as each story was told.

The girl focused her attention on the white and fluffy clouds floating just above the man, still tall in his salmon colored shirt. She wanted to hold onto this moment forever. It was not a particularly grand moment, not a life changing or life shaping moment. The girl felt, in the pit of her stomach, the contradicting emotions of apprehension and excitement; it was as if she was standing on a platform approaching the edge, looking down at the clear blue water below afraid to jump, yet un-paralyzed by the irresistible lure of the free-fall that followed her leap.

-Brett Miller, New York, NY

It’s funny how things come full circle. This morning, walking to the farm with my cabinmates, I was struck by the tendency of time to take us back to the same old places, no matter where else it might flow in between. Pulling the farm cart down the drive in the predawn light, I was transported back to our first morning here, when the first rays of the sun illuminated a similar scene: sleepy Orchard girls, clad in overalls, dragging a cart of compost down a dusty road.

Things are different now, though. For one, there were only six of us this December morning. Many steps behind us, Kendall and Emily still lay slumbering in their beds, savoring their last few moments of sleep before the morning bell rang. Since the meat chickens are now dead, there are no longer enough chores for eight girls to do on the farm in the mornings. So, only Dreme, Jamie, Corey, Mia, Natalie, and I make the long morning trek, while Emily and Kendall weave in the upstairs of the Allen Center, connected to us by the sheep’s wool with which they work the looms.

This is not the only thing that has changed, however. As we turned the corner, and made our way through the maintenance sheds, I was reminded of something Ursula K. LeGuin once said: “There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged, to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.” This phrase seemed to fit the situation perfectly. Save for a few things—our reduced numbers, the nip of frost in the air, the fact that Natalie bore a headlamp on top of her bright orange hunting cap—the morning walk was barely different from those left far back in the dwindling days of August. Yet we—the six of us, and the two back in the cabin—were changed. No longer were we strangers. Instead, a comfortable atmosphere hung around us, like a golden glow. Then, we walked together as assigned partners, tentative comrades, joined by four wooden walls that just happened to house the eight of us. Now, we walk together as family. I don’t know how this happened, exactly: we have never been as openly affectionate as Ranch House, or as crazy as Gordy. Yet slowly and steadily, we have formed unshakable bonds of trust, respect, and fondness, the likes of which I have never yet experienced. No matter what happens over the course of the day, be it emotional trauma or academic disaster, it is left in the past when we step through the malfunctioning door of Orchard House. We are the strangest assortment of people: in so many ways, we are totally and utterly different. And yet, it works. When we are together, we are safe. We are home.

-Clare Anderson, Bar Harbor, ME

Leaving Chewonki was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. Though being home over Thanksgiving break was a wonderful chance for me to catch up with my family and friends, my mind and body ached for the people and the place that I had left behind. However, coming back was what made all of that pain completely worth while.

When I first arrived back on campus, not many people had yet congregated. I ran to those who had arrived and we hugged enthusiastically. Isabel, Kieran, Tavo and I eventually decided that, instead of waiting for people to come to us, we would go to the airport to pick up some of the other students. Thus began the hour long drive to the Portland airport where we swarmed the New Yorkers, greeting them with hugs and exclamations of happiness. Once loaded, seated and buckled down, we headed back to ‘the Wonk.’

By the time we returned, many people had arrived back on campus and were gathering in the foyer of the dining hall. Students and teachers alike were going from person to person, embracing, laughing and asking questions about peoples’ breaks. Everyone had bright shining eyes and big toothy smiles as they reveled in the joy of being reunited. Excitedly, I pushed my way into the throng where I found myself being thrown into group hugs, covered in kisses and actually lifted off my feet by my fellow Wonkers. There was no awkwardness or self-consciousness, just the blatant delight of being in each others’ presence. Never had I felt so complete.

Later that night, while stargazing on the lower field, I thought about why I needed these people so much; why did it hurt so much to leave them? Lying there under the frosty sky, with my friends all holding one another, I finally came to this conclusion: we are all pieces of a whole. We fit! It’s as simple as that! Like a puzzle, Chewonki is made up of many pieces, each with its own purpose and value. We are only complete when we are holding and supporting one another as each of us finds our place in the puzzle. With that thought in mind, I hugged Claire (who was lying next to me) a little tighter and let my thoughts drift up into the cosmos.

I don’t think that it will hurt as much when I leave a second time. No matter where I go, I will always find comfort in the knowledge that I fit somewhere; that I have a family who will love me and support however far apart we may drift. I will always be a piece of the whole that is Chewonki.

-Katie Burns, ME

The night of Thursday, November 18th an advisee group carried out a radical idea to have a barbecue. The Pioneers included Caitlin Scott (the advisor) Michelle Berube, Francesca Mennella, and Patrick Hilbert, who ventured out into the brisk November evening where no group had previously been. To add to the irregularity, the idea was conceived and executed solely by the advisees! Beyond our personal benefits of having more freedom, the event represented the faculty’s profound trust in the student body at Chewonki. Having said that, we did improvise much of the meal (everything excluding the meat for the burgers was not prepared) but it was not outside of our plan; of course to maximize excitement and spontaneity.

We scrambled around the in the dark, and in no time, we had a quaint campfire and a grill-top thirsty for red meat. Unfortunately, it was not venison but, Bernie, a late Chewonki cow, which made a good second. The fire crackled as if we were walking on dried leaves on the forest floor, and burned brightly enough that with the combination of the stars and big new full moon we didn’t even need Caitlin’s headlamp. We cracked open a few Cokes, and finished our rare, gargantuan pieces of meat. To conclude the evening we had peanut butter s’mores and were off to study hall 45 minutes late.

We are hoping to have another amazing advisee meeting like that again soon!!

-Michelle Berube, MA
and Patrick Hilbert, NY

Since I’ve been a student at Chewonki, the hardest thing I’ve had to do was not making new friends, waking up early for farm chores, or work programs. It was leaving. On Sunday morning, after a long day of catching up with our families on Saturday, it was time to go home. I was excited for a week without classes, but I wasn’t looking forward to spending that week anywhere other than in Wiscasset. But at about 8:30 that morning, I met my parents in the dining hall with my bags packed, ready to leave (ready as I would ever be, that is). After saying long goodbyes to all my friends and teachers, we were on our way.

When we were driving through my neighborhood on the way to my house, sadness began to emerge as I saw those all too familiar houses. My dad asked me, “Does it feel weird to be back?” The only thing I could say without showing signs that I was upset was “Yeah.” We pulled into the driveway, walked up the steps, and I went inside my house. I looked around and was amazed at how small everything felt. I walked right up to my room, put down my bags, and began to cry. Nothing had changed, but it felt so different. It was such a strange feeling; it takes a lot to make me cry, and yet, I don’t really even know why it was happening.

Luckily, I have a few things to be happy about/grateful for. First and foremost, I can remind myself that being a student at Chewonki has been the most worthwhile experience of my life, no matter how hard it was to say goodbye. Second, I’ll be returning in only six days to see my friends’ smiling faces again. When all the students return, we still have two and a half weeks to go until our semester comes to a close, and for that I am truly thankful. But the second time I have to leave, that time for good, will be nearly impossible. I’m so glad that my family and my friends at home have been so understanding and accommodating.

When I’m feeling the most down, I just think of this Dr. Seuss quote that I’ve kept in the back of my mind for the past few days: “Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”

-Tom Foley, Waterbury, CT

It takes me a few seconds to figure out that the insistent beeping in my ears is coming from my watch alarm. I immediately turn it off so none of my cabin mates wake up. Climbing down the ladder past Rachel’s bunk, I quietly get dressed and lace up my running sneakers. I slip out the door and walk to the Wallace Center. The building smells like a delicious mix of pancakes and cider, thanks to the kitchen crew who are already hard at work.
I run past the farm and down the hill to Hoyt’s Point. The point faces north, so as I get to the end the sun is just coming up to my left. It’s low tide, so the salt marsh seems to stretch on forever. I can proudly identify the Spartina Alternaflora, a species of intertidal grass, and I note that the tree I’m leaning up against is a white pine. Yay, natural history! I continue running and loop back out to the road and then down the “goose chase” trails. I go faster on the way back, excited to get to Polar Bear on time.

I run down to the waterfront and meet Willard and six or seven other students. I kick off my mud-encrusted sneakers and grab hands with everyone. “One, two, three…GO!” I am partly pulled and partly jump off of the splintery dock. There is nothing like the second after you jump but before you hit the water, when you’re just stranded in midair: a mix of anticipation, regret, dread, and excitement. Then my feet are submerged and the surface shatters into a million pieces like a broken mirror. Cold water grabs me until my head pops up and I can hear the screams, exclamations, and yelps of my fellow polar bears. We all scramble up the ladder, high-fives are exchanged, and we run back to our cabins to dry off before pancakes.

-Emma Longcope, Portland, ME

Every week since the beginning of the semester, we have been going out on either Tuesday or Thursday afternoon to observe the natural world around us. This week we went on our last science field trip. We all met on the bridge in front of the Allen center, decked out in neon orange hats and vests ready for an adventure. We walked off the bridge and followed a path into our very own forest; this was the fourth week that we have had field trip on the Neck. I have loved having them here in our own backyard; it has allowed me to explore the Neck and learn more about it than I would have had we continued to venture off campus. We walked on the path for about ten minutes and then we turned and went into a shaded part of the woods. We all sat down in a big circle and Peter whipped out a book: story time. Peter read us an introduction to a novel about tracking animals. The passage was a very detailed description of a man finding little bird footprints in a fresh plot of snow outside the grocery store near his house. As Peter read the details of this man’s tracking, our ears were also being filled with the sounds of red squirrels, black-capped chickadees, and other familiar forest animals. When Peter finished reading both he and Jenn talked to us about the task that lay ahead. We were going to do something different; a common theme in our Chewonki life. We were told we were going to make event maps. These maps would trace what we saw, heard, felt, smelled, or just anything we wanted, while we explored the west side of Blueberry Hill. Jen told us that we should try and use this time as a way to connect with the natural world – to read its stories, to learn lessons from it. It was very different from any field trip we had had, but we loved it. We all went our separate ways and tried to find animal signs and identify the species around us. It was so quiet in the forest that day because everyone was truly observing. I climbed up the hill a little and found a rock to sit on. The day was coming to a close, and with it something even more special. As I look ahead to next week and Thanksgiving at home, I will remember lying on that west-facing rock and feeling the gentle rays wash over me while enjoying the last minutes of the day and of our final field trip.

-Rachel Ryan, New York, NY

Today, like every other Chewonki weekday, was full of fun and tons of learning. For me, the fun started at 4:00 this morning. The students of Semester 43 were given permission to leave their cabins from 3:00-5:00 a.m. to view the Leonids meteor shower that was predicted. At 4:00 a.m., many alarms went off in Orchard House (some of us need an extra reminder) and we all bundled up in preparation of leaving our toasty cabin. Some reclined on sleeping pads while others stood in anticipation for the shooting stars. In the thirty minutes I was outside, I saw five meteors. Although I was half asleep, it was a magnificent view.

After going back to bed, I was woken up by many alarms once again at 6:25 a.m. I got ready and walked over to morning gather. Morning classes went by fast. In Spanish, my class discussed the ending to a story we just read. During my free I talked to some friends and attempted to accomplish some work. In math we began discussing trigonometry identities. All of this followed by discussing Part Three of “The Bear” by William Faulkner.

Tuesday is a field trip day for me. Instead of doing a very structured field trip involving species accounts and field notes, Peter decided to make it more relaxed. Departing from the bridge, we made our way to Blueberry Hill. The goal was to notice animal tracks and hopefully identify them. In order to do this, we were given the freedom to roam for an hour. I made sketches every so often of the signs of animal life I saw. It is amazing how many things I usually miss! I was surprised to find porcupine scat and rodent holes in places I normally overlook. After splitting up, we circled up to discuss our findings. Everyone had different ideas and noticed different patterns. It was interesting to hear what other people found. Unfortunately the sun is setting earlier and earlier causing our field trips to be shorter and shorter. They are still incredible and tons of fun. Dinner followed field trip followed by study hours.

The days here are jam-packed. We wake up early and go to bed late. This does not stop us, though. The fun never stops and neither does the learning. Everyday is different and unique, but amazing all the same.

-Jamie Harrison, Basking Ridge, NJ

For some of us at Chewonki, dodge ball on Fridays has become a tradition. After a long day of 5 classes, dodge ball is the perfect way to finish up the afternoon, allowing us to let out all the energy we have stored up. This Friday, we recognized that as winter approached and the days got shorter, it would soon be dark by 4:00, the time when dodge ball begins, and this could be our second-to-last dodge ball day. We were already moving towards the middle of November, and sunset was going to start at 4:15. Knowing this, we realized we didn’t have the time to find a creative way to split up teams, so instead we partnered up and each partner went to an opposite side of the court.

This Friday was truly an epic day of dodge ball. The teams were very even, making for a great series of games. Even Mr. Redman, our math teacher Ben’s dad, had to join in. As balls flew across the court, the sun began to set, turning the sky into a mix of yellows, reds, and oranges, with a bright glowing sphere descending among these colors. Between each game, as we set up the balls along the middle line, we couldn’t help pausing to notice the sunset in the background. As the light faded, Katie announced that the next game would be the last of the day. It ended with only two people left on the court, Quinn vs. Jason. After a few throws that didn’t quite hit their mark, Quinn and Jason got each other out at the exact same time, ending the day with a true Chewonki tie.

-Sophia Haim, New York, NY

Every weekend Saturday night activity is planned by a different dish crew. Dish crews are groups you are in to clean dishes after each meal. We have six dish crews and two weekends ago it was dish crew two’s turn to plan Saturday night activity which I was a part of. We thought over different ideas about game shows, bowling, and flashlight tag but none of those ideas seemed interesting. Finally, we came to a decision. Chewonki Prom! Most of the semester students do not have prom until the spring, so why not have a prom?

Our dish crew had the overall theme of prom, but we had to think what would make this a Chewonki Prom and not just a regular prom. Well, we decided to have required recycled outfits. Recycled in this case could mean borrowing other people’s clothes, making your own clothes out of recycled material, or wear something from the costume box.

Everybody participated, even the teachers on duty that weekend. Smiles lit up the room. Music blared and we took prom style pictures. The guys wore paper ties, duck tape bow ties, or even made whole newspaper outfits. The girls wore trash bag dresses or paper skirts. And even paying attention to little details some wore paper earrings and paper corsages. Everyone got so immersed in the dancing that after it was over all you could see on the dance floor was plastic and paper trails left behind.

-Dreme Flynt, Boston, MA

Yesterday was pretty sweet. My cabin got up early for farm chores, Tom and I milked Lola the cow (the two of us are becoming total pros at that). We had a breakfast of pancakes and although I love them, I would have preferred something I could smother in hot sauce. We went on a pretty nice hike on Mt. Megunticook; the view was absolutely amazing, and we were an hour late to lunch because none of us could tear ourselves away from that view. After we got back I read a book until 4:00 when I was on dinner prep. It was my dish crew’s week for activity and dinner and I had planned a Lebanese dinner followed by a flourless chocolate cake. I’m really pleased with how it all turned out (I’m a cook back home and cook a lot so it’s nice to have my family’s restaurant’s recipes do well outside of it). Afterward,s we had a Chewonki prom where we all danced the night away. All in all, a pretty good day.

-Nick Daou, NY

On Saturday November 7th, I woke up at 7:25, after getting a relaxing extra hour more of sleep than I do during the week. After a lovely breakfast of whole-wheat bagels and cereals, the members of Semester 43 set out for a day hike in the Camden Hills. We hiked at a leisurely pace up the north side of the mountain where snow remaining from earlier in the week littered the sides of the path. It was quite treacherous as the rocks closer to the summit were slippery with ice. I have been on many hikes before I came to Chewonki, and for a one hour climb, this view was one of the most breathtaking I have ever seen. The clear blue sky reflected off the glimmering ocean. The grayish brown rolling hills stretched on for miles and fields of snow were visible in the distance. The wind felt nice and crisp as I sat down against a rock and stared into the openness. The majestic beauty that lay before made me realize that I never ever wanted to leave a place so beautiful as Maine. Unfortunately I could not gaze in wonder forever as we were trying to get back to Chewonki for lunch. The leaves were wet and slippery coming down and I fell to the back of the group while helping my friends navigate the rocks as I discussed my animosity towards plastic bags. When we arrived back at the bus, it was already fifteen minutes past lunchtime, and we were and hour away from campus! Nobody seemed to mind; we had all enjoyed ourselves too much to care if we were late.

After sleepily rolling out of the bus, we arrived to a lunch of grilled cheese, tomato soup and rice crispy treats—my favorite! I then had to think ahead to Saturday night. Every Saturday night, a different dish crew plans an activity, and this weekend it was my dish crew’s turn to plan it. After many brainstorming lunches earlier in the week, we had decided upon holding a Chewonki Prom. But this prom was not like any usual prom, instead of buying a dress or even wearing your regular clothes for that matter, you had to make your own outfit. So after lunch, my cabin mates and I went to the art room to create priceless, one of a kind, prom dresses. I felt like I was on “Project Runway” as I was constructing a dress with a plastic bag skirt and a newspaper top.

At four o clock, I ran back to my cabin to change into overalls and bean boots and headed out to the farm for voluntary weekend farm chores with my friend Michelle. It was a gorgeous evening and I was in awe of the sunset as it cast rays of orange light into the barn. We fed the sheep, quieting their persistent bleating, and collected the eggs of the afternoon (accidently dropping a few!). I gave a shovelful of crushed apples, byproducts of last week’s cider pressing, and a bale of hay our draft horse, Sal. Finally we led the three cows into the barn for the night: Lola (the milk cow), her young son Gus, and Adeline, a shocking twenty year old cow who has earned her stay at the Salt Marsh Farm. After milking Lola, we came back to a traditional Lebanese meal prepared by a group of students who volunteered to cook for that night.

At 8:00 the doors opened to Chapin Hall and a stream of recycling-clad semester students streamed in. Even our teachers got in the spirit and made their own trash bag dresses! It seems that at Chewonki, everything comes at the perfect time, just when you are in the mood for it. The Prom was one of those events. All of our energy from a week of essays, tests, chores and homework was released as we danced into the night (or until 10:00). After a short stargazing on the lower field we all retired to our respective cabins for the night. I smiled to myself, thinking that in no other place could I hike a mountain, milk a cow, go to prom and then stargaze among friends all in one, single day. And to think that it was just a regular Saturday!

-Sara Clark, PA

Compared to the rest of life, Chewonki is the best thing ever. But probably my favorite part of Chewonki life is the cabin. I live in Ranch House, the oldest, smallest, and most questionably insulated cabin at Chewonki. I LOVE it. It’s age makes it rustic, with plaques from past semesters and summer camps from as early as 1973. The small size makes it cozy and homey. And our sub-par insulation makes cuddling a necessity. Since the beginning, the group of 7 girls from Ranch has been exceptionally close, but each night of snuggling, cabin talks and dance parties increases the love. Over solos we each wrote a letter to Ranch, expressing how we all felt. I realized in reading this letter how much of a home Ranch has become in the past two months, and how much of a family the other Ranchers and I have become. I truly have 6 new sisters that I know I will have for the rest of my life.

On Friday night, we were all sitting by the wood stove, having a chat. As the night rolled on, sitting on beds evolved to sitting on the floor, and sitting evolved to lying down. Not too much later, all 7 of us were lying by the floor, snuggled together like spoons. Love was palpable in the warm cabin air. We talked about things from our past that shaped us until Willard came in to check us in. After a long day, during conversation with Willard, several of us drifted off to sleep. I just barely heard Willard whisper, “Goodnight Ranch.” It was sort of inevitable that we would end up sleeping there, and when someone finally said, “can we just sleep here tonight?” the answer was unanimous. We all grabbed our sleeping bags and pillows and snuggled down for the best sleepover I’ve ever had. Every single one of us woke with a smile the next morning.

-Jacqui Colt, Deerfield, MA