Grey heart. Not red. Red is for states that are trying. New Hampshire gets the grey because that is literally the color of the sky from November to whenever mud season decides it is done with you, and also the color of the granite you hit every single time you try to dig a post hole.
This is love, but it is complicated love. You pay no sales tax and then immediately spend the savings on a toll. You buy your booze at a rest stop like a civilized person. You spend four months swatting black flies, two weeks watching tourists park sideways to photograph a tree, and then you tell everyone you would never live anywhere else. Grey heart energy. Emotionally unavailable, but loyal as hell.
Soft, heavyweight fabric that holds its shape through mud season, leaf season, and that one week of summer. Roomy enough to layer, comfortable enough to wear five days straight, and durable enough to survive whatever the weather decides to do in the next twenty minutes.
