Finding the "Silent Night" in a Loud World

Troop 3 at Camp Mattatuck, Summer 1999. The same woods we froze our toes off during the Klondike Derby a few months later.

We are officially in the homestretch. It’s Christmas week.

If you are anything like me, the last few weeks have been a blur of logistics—gift buying, travel planning, and navigating the general hustle that defines December. But as we inch closer to the 25th, I find myself craving the one thing that actually makes this season feel like magic: The stillness.

I was thinking back recently to where this love for a "quiet winter" comes from. Growing up in Waterbury, Connecticut, my favorite memories weren’t found in the noise of the city or the crowded school hallways. They were found in the woods of Plymouth, at a place called Camp Mattatuck.

I was a Boy Scout back then, and every winter we prepared for the Klondike Derby. It was freezing, it was exhausting, and it was rustic. We slept in wooden lodges with woodstoves pumping out heat, surrounded by acres of snow-covered pines.

There is a specific kind of silence you only get in the deep woods of New England in December. It’s a heavy, muffled silence where the only sound is the wind in the hemlocks or the crunch of boots on packed snow.

That was my first taste of "peace on earth."

Now, living here in Maine, I realize that I’m still chasing that feeling. When I look out at the hills of Biddeford or head up to the mountains to ski, I’m looking for that same rustic sanctuary I found as a kid. I’m looking for the version of Christmas that isn’t about the "stuff," but about the atmosphere. The woodsmoke, the pine, and the quiet.

As we head into Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, that is my wish for all of you.

I hope you find your own version of Camp Mattatuck this week. Whether it’s a quiet drive down a country road, a moment of peace by the fire, or just standing on your back porch listening to the winter wind—I hope you find a moment where the noise of the world falls away.

Thank you for following along with Country Road Chronicles this year. It has been a joy to share these stories and images with you.

From my home in Maine to yours, I wish you a safe, peaceful, and very Merry Christmas.