Unlike their antique forebears, these relatively new covered bridges were never really intended to be trafficked crossings, but rather carefully crafted replicas.
Gusting winds rock a cluster of cedars dauntlessly perched atop an ancient traprock cliff in the Metacomet Range.
Along the flank of the Sleeping Giant hills, a woodland stream emboldened with the rainfall from an autumn Nor’easter surges through a leaf-scattered gorge.
A grove of pines stand shrouded with morning mist on the tranquil shores of Wigwam Reservoir, their towering trunks inverted in a mirror-like reflection upon the still water below.
Sunlight pierces the forest canopy in the heart of Woodbridge, transforming the understory into a landscape fit for a fairytale.
Coursing mightily after weeks of springtime rainfall, the Naugatuck River churns up whitewater as it snakes through mist-engulfed woodlands.
A century and a half after being built, Randall Covered Bridge feels almost as natural a part of the scenery as the surrounding woodlands or the rushing waters of the Passumpsic’s East Branch.
In the rural valley of Nepaug beneath the looming silhouette of Yellow Mountain, farmland is daubed with molten light upon awakening to another January morning.
“Especially when summer breezes waft the teeming earth, and all landscapes seem to flourish in nature’s glad birth.”
Well into November, and with the surrounding forests already stripped bare by icy winds, an orchard of wizened peach trees clings valorously to its autumn trimmings.