As the cornfields of Ohio give way to the rolling hills and lush forest of southern New York State, I find myself more focused on reaching my destination then drawing. There’s an unmistakable change in scenery from state to state as well as changes in road conditions, signs and services. An interesting note from New York State is that all of the place signs within the native American lands are in both English and the Seneca or Iroquois language. New York also uses a lot of picture signs – I saw pictures of cows, bears, tractors, even an Amish buggy and horse – which was a good warning because I came up over a rise and there was the iconic black buggy and horse, clip-clopping down the road.
Driving through southern Vermont and New Hampshire colonial homes confirm I’m in New England. Many are big and imposing, some are simple and elegant. Most are well preserved and very tidy. Small villages only momentarily interrupt the forested highway. Crossing the Green Mountains touches of bright yellow and orange leaves are beginning to dot the thick green forests. Despite the heat wave, maybe autumn will be here soon. I can only hope.
In West Brattleboro, I stop to examine a covered bridge. I hadn’t seen one since my early days living in New England. Tucker and I got out and walked through it. He wasn’t impressed. I was enchanted by the history and memories held within it’s worn beams.
The drawing I did is quick, as most are in my sketchbook. This subject intrigues me though and I know I will do another, more deliberate drawing when I have more time. For now, I have a stronger memory than just a photograph would provide. My sketchbook is nearly half full!