Though much of the country is enjoying crispy fall weather, the mountains and hills of the northeast have already been carpeted with the first snowfalls, and much of the bright foliage has already fallen to the forest floor.
High above the wet woods of northern Vermont in early winter, the contrast between dark coniferous trees and blanched deciduous trees makes for a mottled appearance. Down amongst that Ising Model of tree distribution, a little building or two make for odd inhomogeneities.
Even from high above, the evidence of winter’s arrival show in the locked-down and cracked-apart landscape of the northeastern United States.
A family farm on a hillside in northern Vermont at the start of winter is like an empty table, ready to be set for a meal. These and other folksy aphorisms, brought to you by a digital eye on a flying robot stabilized by orbiting artificial satellites and electronic gyroscopes. The future is excellent!
Horses don’t seem to mind the snow. Wintery Vermont afternoons, with the appropriate amount of horse treats, are just their style.
Deep in winter and summer, New England becomes monochromatic (white and green, respectively). Late fall is different; “stick season” has a broad, desaturated array of hues that stretch across the landscape.
A pony farm nestled in the hills of northern Vermont: with a ring and a pond by the house, what more can a young American dream of?
(At the moment I took this picture, the answer was, “snow.”)
Homes designed to weather the fierce winters of northern New England and the North Country have a particular structure: Something vaguely Scandinavian and reminiscent of a Viking longhouse. When the sun sets and the clouds gather for our (current) proper winter, I’m glad for the equivalence.
This winter that won’t begin has brought strange landscapes to New England. Along Little River through Stowe, VT, the environment is in a strange flux/limbo. Add the snow with imagination?
Northern Vermont is a magnificent place in the winter: skiing, hot cocoa, quaint inns, etc. This warm winter has left those skiers waiting for the actual snow to arrive, however.
The ferry across Lake Champlain is brief—no need for cabins when a few benches will do. The calm of mid-century American design makes the place feel like every other ferry you’ve ever been on.
Cars and bikes waited on the deck below. I rather like the notice about stopping motors and setting brakes above two vehicles for which that isn’t likely to be an issue.
Our recent trip across Lake Champlain to Burlington, Vermont with the Mini (you can see it hiding in the bottom-right corner) included time on the ferry behind these four motorcyclists from Quebec. That medley of Ducati, Honda, KTM, and Harley-Davison, set against the backdrop of far-off sailboats and mountains, makes for a strong “adventure trip” vibe.
California in the summer–always sunny, never a cloud in the sky… And on the east coast (Vermont, in this case), I was instead buffeted by massive, overpowering storms. That refreshing summer storm feeling, and the mountaintop views that go with them, make me a bit nostalgic.