I rarely photographed much in Vermont for the 23 years that I lived there. Although the small towns were charming, the streets always seemed deserted. The scenery was spectacular, but I never considered myself much of a landscape photographer. Whatever Vermont was, It was simply too elusive for me to capture—or so I thought.
After being away for a few months, for some reason, I began to go through my files and see what I had accumulated during those years and a small body of work seemed to emerge. A landscape, a flag in a window, a guy I met on the ferry to NY state, all fell into place. In all, I may have spent no more than one or two weeks a year photographing in the state—never more than a day at a time, most days feeling that I had come up empty after spending the entire day shooting in the small towns and countryside, but every now and then a photograph would eventually emerge. Most of these pictures are grab shots—coming home on the ferry, having lunch in a neighboring village, coming home at night—none of these resulted in any time spent constantly shooting or taking pictures over a long period of time. They are simply a shot here, a shot there, but comet think of it, that what I always felt about this charming state. A village here, a small town there and a small road in-between.
