- Morning mist lifting on the White Mountains in Vermont.
I have not had much experience with mountains, so the few times that I have watched the morning mist rise — in western Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont — have been almost mystical for me.
This photo is from a visit to the White Mountains in Vermont. For a few years I went up to Breadloaf — a revered sanctuary for writers — on the outskirts of Middlebury. There, I spent a handful of long weekends with talented high school writers and teachers from across New England doing what we all liked to do best — write and listen to people read their writing.One of Robert Frost’s homes is located within walking distance, so it is all very writerly — but the kids made it so much more fun. It was amazing to watch them in their element, far from the high school world that often parked them a rung lower than the band kids.
Anyway, I loved Breadloaf and all the stuff that went along with it. I also loved the solitary ride up there, winding north on secondary roads that I knew would eventually get me to where I needed to be. I loved the little villages and the pockets of pastures and odd little places like this one in the photo. Actually, the home on this place was beautiful and well kept. I believe these run-down creatures were meant to attract photographers like me.