Fall is seeping down south in Maine; forcing leaves from trees, turning grass brown, and nudging temperatures below the frost point. The crisp smell of fall makes me smile and eager to put on my itchy wool jackets and retire my iced caffeinated beverages.
On a quiet fall morning I took the long way home through the rolling central Maine farmland and made frequent stops.
Moo's at a local organic farm. MOFGA represent.
These photos give context to a way of life that I romanticize from afar.