January 26, 2010
My Own Private New England
In four months to the day, I will pack up my belongings and move away from New England for the foreseeable future. Three years ago, I arrived at Boston International Airport, naive, unsuspecting and excited to spend four years at a tiny college nestled in the Maine woods. It wasn’t until my junior year that my curiosity drove me out of the walls of my college and I started appreciating the history and texture of the area around me. As the shadow of moving away from New England edges closer, I find myself looking for excuses to explore bumpy side roads that connect the forests and fields of Northern New England.
Crates in a lumber yard near Unity, Maine.
Jeep delivery truck near Dodge Corner, Maine. I wish it was mine.
A country road near the New Hampshire and Maine border.
A pair of weathered barns near Burnham, Maine.
A lone tree in a field near Shoreham, Vermont.
Aimlessly, I wander the cracked roads, listening to songs on repeat and measuring my trips in time, not miles traveled. I drive alone. Stopping often, I leave the car running as I skip across the road and into the snow. Through the lens of my camera, I try to capture my own private New England.