Peeping (day 1)

View from Bennington Battle Monument

Leaf peeping 
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Leaf peeping is an informal term for people who travel to view and photograph the fall foliage in areas where foliage changes colors, particularly New England.^[1][2] The origin of the term "leaf peeping" is not well known. A similar custom in Japan is called momijigari.
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President Calderwood approved our travel request in September, adding his own regional suggestions. "Peak color" usually comes around the first week of October, but we had difficulty finding two days together. I monitored the foliage reports as the change moved down from Canada. It reaches Long Island sometime around Halloween, but we wanted to see the famous autumn of Vermont and New Hampshire, and maybe a covered bridge or two. By mid-October the mountain top leaves were sparse, but the valley foliage was SPECTACULAR. And - no people. We had most trails and vistas to ourselves.

Popular leaf routes wind throughout New England. Some are national scenic trails. We chose an area where the borders of three states meet and the Green Mountains of Vermont become the Berkshires of Massachusetts. The proposed route seemed reasonably navigable.









Right after Sunday meetings we crossed Throgs Neck Bridge north toward Albany and at sunset followed the Taconic Trail to our Berkshire County base, a Howard Johnson near Williams College. (Changed rooms on Day Two. Second night habitable.)

Morgan Hall | Williams College 

As the sun rose Monday we saw that fall colors still painted this corner of New England. Robert Frost spent nine years in Shaftesbury. We visited his grave behind the Old First Congregational Church at Old Bennington Cemetery. Apparently, things here are stately "old" & nominally "Old."

Headstone inscription: "I had a lover's quarrel with the world"

It was a full day. We explored forest hills and crooked rivers, shopped antiques, sampled chocolate cherries and homemade ice cream . Stefanie read in the car while I toured the amazing Orvis store in Manchester. She came inside upon learning that it also sold home goods. I particularly liked the custom long guns. When I tried on a $3000.00 leather jacket she said it was time to go. We lunched on Pizza (can't get enough of that in New York), and then browsed books at the Northshire Bookstore where I soon found the poetry section and Robert Frost biographies. On the drive back we read poems and discussed embedded issues of mortality: "Whose woods these are I think I know."

The air was crisp, the roads less traveled. I opened the sun-roof and we followed highway 100, "Vermont's Main Street," south along the Deerfield River to an intersection with the Molly Stark Trail. Hmmmmm. Memorable name. I had to know. Google obliged. Her husband fought the war, but his battle cry made her the legend: "There are your enemies, the Red Coats and the Tories. They are ours, or this night Molly Stark sleeps a widow!" I love this guy.

The best angled rays come early morning and late afternoon. The back-lighting on our return to Willaimstown was a showstopper.