Fall for New England

I just love autumn. The riot of color. Soft sunshine, skies infinitely blue and the evenings crisp and cold. Maples burnished with endless hues, while elm and poplar cast their golden shade on the land. Woodsmoke and the scent of apples. Rustling leaves and rain soaked afternoons. Nowhere, but nowhere else is the swell and crescendo of the fall vistas greater than in New England.



So many years, and I still haven't had my fill of the fall color. Every season unfolds new beauty, great surprises, sweet memories. We've driven mile after mile of the fall terrain, sometimes merely to amble around the country. Never worried about getting lost - it often turned out to be the best part of our trip.

Vermont's Route 7 from Rutland is for the classic New England flavor. Farmland, rolling hills, rivers that literally meander and pristine church spires framed by the backdrop of flaming maples. Up north, Burlington has all the charm of a large university town and the drive to the Canadian border is pretty. Enroute, the Hero islands at Lake Champlain are spectacular as are the lake views. More than once, we traveled New Hampshire's Kancamagus byway to hike and picnic. The Conway Scenic railroad was memorable for the colors and the period flavor.

Maine is huge; beautiful in both its coastal ruggedness as well as bucolic charm. We did south western Maine's scenic antique trail one year and what a dual treat that was. While not as rural as the northern states, Massachusetts, Connecticut & Rhode Island blossom beautifully too, albeit a little later.

During our first fall, while living south of the Boston area, we just couldn't wait for the colors. Took in a scenic weekend in VT & NH eagerly feasting our senses while our own neighborhood looked tepid. But guess what! Come Monday, and I drove down the freeway only to discover that our very own stretch of I-95 had turned into a gorgeous blaze of orangy-reds overnight.



Sometimes, home is where the colors are. Or is it the other way round.