Broadleaf tobacco lives in the proverbial shadow of world-famous Connecticut shade tobacco, the two varieties forever vying for turf in the same fertile soils of the Connecticut Valley.
Despite being carved by brooks and draped with several serpentine miles of the Farmington River, the town peculiarly lacks many standing bodies of water.
Over the course of their roughly 75-year reign during the 19th century, the timber-truss covered bridge represented the zenith in bridge technology.
Crowded stalks of corn reach skyward from a humid field, the crops abruptly giving way to misty woodlands and the dreamy silhouettes of Connecticut’s Litchfield Hills.
As dawn breaks over the Naugatuck Valley in early October, thousands of stakes still dot a rolling field of tomato plants and bear the weight of the season’s waning crop.
Beneath the dense canopy of summertime woodlands, Dividend Brook leaps from a jagged cliff before meandering a half-mile eastward to unite with the vast Connecticut River.
As the final days of September approach, this leafy field of eggplant rears its final crop of ripened vegetables.
The Saville Dam represents one of the more ambitious civil engineering projects in Connecticut’s history; certainly one of the largest efforts aimed at securing drinking water.
“Whiskey is for drinking; water is for fighting over.” So said Mark Twain, whose words echo the bitterness which surrounded Connecticut’s quest to build enough reservoirs to satisfy the water needs of its capital region.
Exotic blossoms invite vivid color into a dusty farm field in Northern Connecticut where decorative flowers have reached maturity.
Off came my shoes and socks and, with pant legs rolled up, I waded into the cool waters of Whetstone Brook where I found the vista I had envisioned!
There could hardly be a starker contrast than that of the icy stillness of Hoyt Hayes Swamp and the swift, raucous waterfalls it nourishes downstream.