Photo of the Day: Quechee by the Bench

The sunny weekend in the Northeast certainly vanquished any last remnants of cabin fever. I visited Quechee Inn in Quechee, Vermont. If you ever need to get out of the city and disappear from the world, I can highly recommend this place. Across the street from the Inn, you can take a short hike to the Quechee Gorge. Along the way, you’ll have a chance to take a seat on this bench and enjoy what makes Vermont great: nature in the buff.

Photo by Christopher Peterson
Copyright © 2005

Photo of the Day: The Great Sleep

Sometimes a good sleep comes in unexpected places. Here’s one of a man snoozing on the New Haven Green, in New Haven, Connecticut. It helps if you bring your own chair. Could be a little dangerous if the pigeons take flight, though, so be sure to sleep with your mouth closed.

Photo by Christopher Peterson
Copyright © 2005

Photo of the Day: Yellow Lines

This image was taken in The Berkshires, Great Barrington, Massachussetts. I was lying on the road, taking low angle shots of the double yellow line, when suddenly this yellow pick-up truck passed me by. I love how the truck rides the yellow line, as our eye follows the double line down the road.

Photograph by Christopher Peterson
Copyright © 2005

Photo of the Day: Hayden Planetarium

Hayden Planetarium in New York City is almost as much fun to visit at night as it is during the day. The poet, Mark Strand, wrote a children’s book called, The Night Book , which tells the story of how a little girl, who’s afraid of the dark, goes on a wonderous journey to discover all the things that only appear during the night. A moonbeam guides her along the way until the light makes everything disappear. It’s a fanstastic, but real story, just like the story of the universe.

Photograph by Christopher Peterson
Copyright © 2005

Here’s an excerpt from Mark Strand’s, The Long Sad Party, published in The Late Hour.

Someone was saying
something about shadows covering the field, about
how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning
and the morning goes.

Someone was saying
how the wind dies down but comes back,
how shells are the coffins of wind
but the weather continues.

It was a long night
and someone said something about the moon shedding its white
on the cold field, that there was nothing ahead
but more of the same.