It was almost the end of a photographic journey in the western side ot Massachusetts. During the whole day, we were happy to forget about work, and to enjoy a shared passion for photography.
Tired but in peace, while driving back on the Mohawk trail, we stopped close to a small brick house. As we got closer, we noticed the wood panel on its side: Little Red School, 1828.
In silence, we walked in the field, each going its own way to pursue the last ray of warm light.
I sat on the grass for a moment. Sometimes I think I’m still there…
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