I miss Acadia National Park. It’s a mere six hours away by car, but my visits are rare. When I’m there, I head for the carriage trails. Wide as roads, quiet, listed on maps but with no individual names, they’re a Rockefeller’s gift to the nation (really). Acadia has its hills and mountains and shoreline, all very beautiful, typical of northern New England. The carriage paths set Acadia apart.
3 thoughts on “A Street With No Name”
I like the emptiness and roughness in this photo.
I want to go here with you.
Woods. Modest mountains. A fjord, forgoshsakes. No wonder it’s crowded in summertime.
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