Just a few miles north of Manchester, Vermont is Dorset, a picture postcard little town almost too perfect to be real. There is a small green lined with large well kept colonial houses, a country store that supplies not only bread and milk, but The New York Times, and a selection of wines any wine shop would be proud of (with prices to match). There is a lovely country club with well tended golf course, and a community theatre that offers everything from “Bye, Bye Birdie” to “Hedda Gabler”. It is so idyllic it could have been the model for Gover’s Corners, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they offer a production of “Our Town” every year.
I don’t mean to sound snarky, but it ‘s so well…polished. The place is so well tended one might think he had stumbled into Colonial Williamsburg by mistake. I have the impression that no one really lives there; at least no real Vermonters, there was way too much khaki. The place has all the earmarks of the New Yorker’s getaway. And who could blame them? It has all the things the well-healed are looking for. It’s quiet and clean with all the amenities, and it’s white and I don’t mean just the houses. It’s a pretty little village, it’s just a bit too much for me.
Of all the buildings I saw in town, this was the one I fancied; small, well proportioned, and unadorned. It was the the only building I photographed.
Pentax K10D with 35mm f2.8 macro lens, converted to black and white in Nik Silver Efex Pro2 and Photoshop CS4.