Many memories are coming back to me now, as I process these pictures taken in October twenty-two years ago, on a trip with a friend who was to die ten years later. We took a train from Virginia to Massachusetts and rented a car to drive up Vermont and down New Hampshire. I had made all of the B&B reservations, and she had mapped out our points of interest.
One of those, perhaps ironically, was the Rock of Ages Granite Quarry in Barre, Vermont. I recall now that it had a super gift shop, where I believe I may have bought some maple brittle. The day was a bit overcast, so I had to do some tweaking to bump up the colors in this picture. It was fall, as I said, and flame-leafed trees grew all the way down the sides of the quarry. And it was really a long way down.