If you read one of the many illustrated books about Vermont, you are likely to gain the impression that the seasons here move straight from the gold and glory of Fall to the hushed whiteness of snow. Maybe some years that's how it is - but this year there is another step between these seasons, where the leaves are gone and the snow has yet to fall.
Houses that were invisible during the summer and fall suddenly appear in the forest.
The fields are full of seed.
And glorious vistas are opening up.
We finally found a beaver house nearby.
We haven't spotted the actual beavers yet, but by their works we recognise them...
We need a name for this season. To suggest that Vermont is only worth photographing, only worth looking at in the colour of fall and the stunning cover of winter is to miss something breath-taking. I love the structure and shape of this season, when the forms of the trees stand against the sky, when forests take on darkness, when the edges of the mountains blur into distant snow cloud. But for now, I'm glad to have seen it, to be paying attention, to have seen the beauty in something unnamed.