Robert Frost, former U.S. Poet Laureate, spent much of his life in Vermont. Lucky guy. We were there for a few days last week celebrating the wedding of two friends in tiny Grafton, a village lifted right out of a Currier and Ives print that redefines serenity. If you can’t unwind here, you might be a lost cause.
A couple of weeks before the explosion of color and crowds otherwise known as Autumn in New England, we had the roads mostly to ourselves and (thanks to an up-selling Enterprise rental guy) a cherry-red convertible with which to explore. There are worse ways to vacation.
Vermont is green. Powerfully, overwhelmingly, gorgeously, immersively green. More could be said, but none of it better than Frost’s numerous reflections on fields, woods, and countryside. So we’ll leave it at that and give you instead some photos of the rare beauty of the place (and a few extra of Flume Gorge in neighboring New Hampshire. When you’ve had too much city, this is where you go.