Rolling hills of green dotted with singular white steeples called out like bastions of salvation as I made my way along winding roads through dark forests. I imagined the wildness of this place three hundred years ago when the Mohican and other tribes called this place home.
Clear rushing rivers, plentiful deer and lush meadows full of wildflowers still remain. It was the end of summer and the warm sun shown through the car window as I passed through tiny hamlets brimming with art galleries, cafes, and bookshops. Wooden, covered bridges, creaked and moaned as the modern wheels of my car traversed where only horses and wagons once trod. The higher I climbed in elevation, the cooler and fresher the air became.
Before long I found myself entering the town of Kent. It was Saturday and the weekly used book sale was already underway. Folding tables were set up alongside the town library. Funds from the sale go to support the library and the event goes back to 1923.
As I drove through Main Street and circled back, passed the old train station turned pharmacy, I passed through Kent Barns – a huddle of historic buildings that have been repurposed into shops and galleries. A tiny powder blue house caught my eye and I snapped a picture with my phone as I drove past.
As I made my way west, at some point, deep in the hills, I passed into eastern New York. The landscape changed slightly as I came into the Hudson River Valley. Red barns, brilliant against the cool green of the hills, beckoned me to pull over several times to snap more pictures. so quintessentially New England. I could imagine them against the stark white snow of winter, bejeweled with festive wreaths for the holiday season. Some were in perfect condition, others had obviously been neglected, but even with warts and wrinkles, they all loved the lens.
I ended the day, back where I’d started, in New Milford, Connecticut, a river town from the early 18th century, complete with village green surrounded by all white churches and homes…still a vibrant and alive place, even after all these centuries.
As I starred down the street, lined with shops and restaurants, the century old buildings created a perfect line of site to the hills beyond and memories of a day well spent.
All photos by the author.