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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Judson’s Post at the Stratford Point Light

Judson's Post (Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut)
“Judson’s Post”
Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

In my new piece, “Judson’s Post”, I bring you to the shores of Long Island Sound where calm waters lap at boulders in the shallows. Facing inland, we see the Stratford Point Lighthouse standing tall upon the distant hill behind a seawall of piled rip-rap and a white picket fence. Although the current Stratford Point Light was guiding sailors near the mouth of the Housatonic River since the late 1800s, the history of Stratford Point as the site of a maritime beacon stretches back much further.

Stone and metal lighthouses generally came about beginning in the early 1800s, replacing a generation of earlier wooden lighthouses that had been built during the later 1700s. But colonists and merchants had been navigating the New England coast since the early 1600s and, in an era before lighthouses, they too needed some means of avoiding coastline hazards or locating harbors from afar.

Boulder Shores of Stratford (Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut)
“Boulder Shores of Stratford”
Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

During the earliest colonial years, a great bonfire was lit on Stratford Point during foggy nights whenever a ship was expected to arrive. At some point, an iron hearth was attached to the top of a tall post, elevating the fire above ground level for increased visibility. It wasn’t until 1822 that a true, 28-foot wooden lighthouse was built on Stratford Point. And if that sounds like a long time ago, recall that the settlement of Stratford was already almost two centuries old at that point. The current cast-iron tower replaced the decaying wooden lighthouse in 1880 and has stood on Stratford Point ever since.

Home at the Lighthouse (Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut)
“Home at the Lighthouse”
Stratford Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Stratford, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

I titled “Judson’s Post” (photo at top) in honor of Theodore Judson, who was in his early 30s when he assumed the duty of lighthouse keeper at Stratford Point in 1880. He was just shy of age 70 when he finally retired in 1919, having manned the lighthouse for almost four decades. A truly impressive run by anyone’s standards!

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Be sure to check out all of my work from Stratford Point and the Stratford Point Lighthouse, including the other photographs seen above.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Lakewood Shimmering

Lakewood Shimmering (Great Brook Reservoir at Lakewood Park, Waterbury, Connecticut)
“Lakewood Shimmering”
Great Brook Reservoir at Lakewood Park, Waterbury, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

With over 3,800 people per square mile, the crowded city of Waterbury in Western Connecticut is among the last places you might expect to find natural beauty. Don’t count it out entirely, though: the calm waters and wooded hills of Great Brook Reservoir on the east side of the city, seen here in my piece “Lakewood Shimmering”, are a welcome escape from the concrete, brick and asphalt.

It’s hard to imagine that when Waterbury was settled by Europeans in the late 1600s, the Central Naugatuck Valley was still a vast frontier of wooded hills. In fact, townspeople referred to the settlement by its Native American name, “Mattatuck”, for the first decade of its existence.

Waterbury’s rocky landscape made for terrible farmland and the town’s growth stagnated for a century. When brass manufacturing took off in the 1800s, though, Waterbury became an industrial powerhouse —the “Brass City”— and began to grow rapidly.

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Click here to visit my landing page for “Lakewood Shimmering” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about licensing this image.

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Be sure to check out all of my work from Great Brook Reservoir and Lakewood Park, including the photograph seen above.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Tierney Springtime

Tierney Springtime (Jack's Brook at Brian E. Tierney Preserve, Roxbury, Connecticut)
“Tierney Springtime”
Jack’s Brook at Brian E. Tierney Preserve, Roxbury, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

My new release from the Brian E. Tierney Preserve, “Tierney Springtime”, brings you into the wooded hills of Roxbury in Western Connecticut. Jack’s Brook, a lively tributary of the Shepaug River, is found snaking through a rock-strewn glen in the faint morning twilight as broad, verdant leaves of riverside skunk cabbage jostle in the breeze.

Although the lush greenery of skunk cabbage is a refreshing sign of spring, anybody that has traipsed through patches of this plant in the wetlands as a child is all too familiar with the potent stench of its sap. That foul odor, not surprisingly, inspired the comparison to the rank odor unleashed by frightened skunks. Luckily, the stench of skunk cabbage isn’t quite as noxious and doesn’t linger nearly as long as that of an actual skunk, but it’s unpleasant just the same.

In spite of its unfortunate reputation, eastern skunk cabbage is actually a quite remarkable plant which is expertly adapted to the climatic extremes of New England. Beginning as early as January and February, the mottled flower hoods of skunk cabbage can be found melting through the snow and ice on their wetland habitat. That’s right: skunk cabbage is one of the rare plants that is able to generate it’s own heat, sometimes in excess of 20° to 30°F above that of the surrounding air. This incredible ability affords it the opportunity to push its flowers up in late winter in order to draw pollinating insects before its competitors have so much as sprouted. And believe it or not, even that offensive odor serves a very clever purpose. Since the smell roughly resembles that of rotting plants and animals, it attracts flies and similar insects that emerge very early in the year and pollinate the flowers of the skunk cabbage.

The Falls at Tierney (Jack's Brook Cascades at Brian E. Tierney Preserve, Roxbury, Connecticut)
“The Falls at Tierney”
Jack’s Brook Cascades at Brian E. Tierney Preserve, Roxbury, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

But truth be told, finding this natural garden of springtime foliage was actually just a welcome bonus along the route to my planned destination. The sight that had drawn me out to Tierney Preserve to begin with was a waterfall locally known as The Cascades which was mentioned in Russell Dunn’s book, Connecticut Waterfalls: A Guide. He had opted to prepend that generic name with the name of the brook upon which the 15-foot falls are formed, thus making them Jack’s Brook Cascades. You can see this waterfall in my new piece, “The Falls at Tierney” (above), where they weave through a rocky, woodland gorge in the faint morning light filtering down through the springtime canopy.

From a purely technical perspective, the waterfall really is more of a steep, spirited cascade. But I can understand why Dunn included it in his waterfall guide, since Jack’s Brook Cascades are every bit a waterfall by aesthetic standards. That is to say, it simply feels like a waterfall. Suffice it to say, you can expect to see “The Falls at Tierney” added to my ever-growing Waterfalls of Connecticut collection, which I urge you to check out at connecticutfalls.com if you haven’t visited lately. I’ve added a few more waterfalls over the course of the past season, so you’ll probably find something new.

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Click here to visit my landing page for “Tierney Springtime” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about licensing this image.

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Check out more of Connecticut’s exquisite waterfalls at my Waterfalls of Connecticut collection.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Mud Season in Southern New England

Yankee Farmlands № 26 (Corn field in Bloomfield, Connecticut)
“Yankee Farmlands № 26”
Bloomfield, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

My latest addition to the Yankee Farmlands collection brings us to the town of Bloomfield in Northern Connecticut, where the broken stalks from last year’s corn crop stand in a field which has nearly flooded as warm spells melt away the thick snow pack.

“Mud Season” is the not-too-affectionate term for this time of year in New England. It’s that month-long stretch beginning in late March when the snows are melting away even though the soil below the surface of the ground remains frozen. Meltwater can’t drain through the icy underlayer, so it becomes trapped at the surface and produces a thick slurry of mud.

This was a major source of difficulty in the old days before most of Connecticut’s roads were paved. Horses, wagon wheels and even early cars would get swallowed up in the deep, rutted mud of dirt roads. The resulting mess perennially had a significant impact upon travel in the early springtime. Even still, we here in Southern New England have always had it easier than our neighbors further north. Mud season is far worse in Northern New England, where lower temperatures can freeze the ground much more deeply and springtime mud can hang around well into June!

On a different note, the particular swath of cropland shown here in “Yankee Farmlands № 26” may look like a rather ordinary corn field. But you won’t find any barns or a family farmhouse on this property, because the land is actually owned by the State of Connecticut. This stretch of flatland is a large, designated flood control area nestled amidst the mostly suburban landscape of Bloomfield. Although full-blown floods don’t occur here very often, setting aside this low-lying, poorly-drained area helps protect against unwise development and comes with accompanying benefit of preserving open space. Although I suppose that the state government might grow its own corn here for one reason or another, it seems much more likely that the land is leased to a local farmer who lives off-site and works it as remote field in addition to his or her other land.

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Click here to visit my landing page for “Yankee Farmlands № 26” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about licensing this image.

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Be sure to check out all of the landscape photography from my on-going Yankee Farmlands project.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Lighthouse at Lynde Point

Lynde Point Seascape (Lynde Point Lighthouse, Old Saybrook, Connecticut)
“Lynde Point Seascape”
Lynde Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Old Saybrook, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

In my new piece “Lynde Point Seascape” (above), the Lynde Point Lighthouse stands sentinel on Long Island Sound at the mouth of the Connecticut River, its column of neatly stacked windows peering towards the sea from a 65-foot brownstone tower. Foreboding clouds loom overhead, while large slabs of wave-thrown ice batter the nearby seashore.

This is just one of my newly-released works featuring the stately Lynde Point Lighthouse in the context of a frigid New England winter. Built in 1838 to replace an older, dilapidated wooden tower, the present beacon at Lynde Point has remained an active aid to maritime navigation for more than a century and half, even as the land surrounding it transitioned from farms and pastures to lightly-wooded suburbs and sizable beachfront cottages.

A Beacon in the Night (Lynde Point Lighthouse, Old Saybrook, Connecticut)
“A Beacon in the Night”
Lynde Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Old Saybrook, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

But just as captivating as the lighthouse during my visit were the chunks of ice drifting on the waves and settling upon the seashore. From jewel-like bits to massive slabs more than 10 feet across, these bergs drifted down the Connecticut River from the state’s interior, only to quickly wash up on the seashores at either side of the river’s mouth.

Saybrook Winter (Lynde Point Lighthouse at Old Saybrook, Connecticut)
“Saybrook Winter”
Lynde Point on Long Island Sound, Old Saybrook, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

Days tossing about in the ocean water left some of the ice slabs beautifully polished, their burrs and edges having melted away to reveal a smooth, glassy finish which glistened even in the faint light filtering down through the heavy morning clouds.

Saybrook Vista (Lynde Point Lighthouse on Old Saybrook, Connecticut)
“Saybrook Vista”
Lynde Point Lighthouse on Long Island Sound, Old Saybrook, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

As you can see in my panoramic piece, “Saybrook Vista”, the conditions on this particular morning didn’t exactly offer stunning sunrise colors or dramatic side-lighting. Instead, I was offered some moody, exquisitely-textured cloud cover and only the faint, cool-toned light that was able to filter through. Sure… it’s not the sort of glorious morning that makes you want to lay out a beach towel and stay the afternoon. Then again, would we really expect that sort of idyllic day in late Winter? This is true New England in all of its elemental glory; these are the somber, overcast skies and cold, wind-swept beaches that were part of everyday life for Connecticut mariners of old.

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Click here to visit my landing page for “Lynde Point Seascape” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about licensing this image.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Farewell Winter!

Yankee Farmlands № 25 (Glastonbury, Connecticut, USA)
“Yankee Farmlands № 25”
Glastonbury, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

Springtime in the American Northeast was described perfectly by Pennsylvania-born author Henry van Dyke in 1899:

“The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.”

Judging by the stillness in the cold air and the snowpack lingering upon the barnyard of the Glastonbury farm in my new piece, “Yankee Farmlands № 25” (above), it would be tough to tell that a season of renewed warmth is upon us. Then again, fields that were covered a yard-deep in snow just a month ago have since thinned out to less than a foot and we’ve had some forgiving temperatures lately.

This much-awaited break in the winter weather is already presenting some fresh new shooting opportunities. Recent warm spells have melted substantial amounts of snow, causing brooks and rivers all over the state to swell. Waterfalls which have been snow-caked and encrusted with ice since January are finally awakening from their seasonal slumber. The woodlands and farmlands alike are still fairly dormant this early in the year, but as snow vanishes from road shoulders and trailhead parking lots, I’ve been delighted to find that I’ve finally got a place to park my truck again!

I’ve eased my cabin fever over these past couple months by putting together a new list of exciting shooting locations in Southern New England; I’m more than eager to get back out into a lively green landscape! So here’s to another long winter being behind us… and another glorious spring ahead!

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Click here to visit my the landing page for “Yankee Farmlands № 25” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about rights-managed licensing for this image.

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Be sure to check out my Yankee Farmlands collection, the fruit of an on-going project which celebrates the agricultural heritage of the American Northeast through the breath-taking farmlands of Connecticut.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Heart of the Old Mill

Heart of the Old Mill (Mill Pond Falls, Mill Pond Park, Newington, Connecticut)
“Heart of the Old Mill”
Mill Pond Falls on Mill Brook, Mill Pond Park, Newington, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

In my new piece, “Heart of the Old Mill”, Mill Pond Falls slips over a shadow-cloaked ledge, its frigid cascades churning to whitewater as it skips over time-worn stone. Above the precipice of the falls, dawn casts warm, sharp light upon a footbridge and snowy woodlands nearby.

Nestled within the center of Newington, Mill Pond Falls is certainly one of Connecticut’s lesser waterfalls at perhaps just 12 to 15 feet in height. Still, the town’s claim that it’s the “smallest natural waterfall in the United States” is no less perplexing.

But while Mill Pond Falls may measure a bit short, it is arguably more beloved than most waterfalls that are several times larger. Each year it is the centerpiece of the “Newington Waterfall Festival” and its cascades are even featured prominently on the town seal! Why so much fanfare over such a diminutive waterfall? During the earliest era of its settlement between the late 1600s and mid-1700s, Newington’s fledging economy was wholly dependent upon these falls to power a local sawmill. So if not for this tiny waterfall, its safe to say that the old colonial village of Newington may have vanished from the map centuries ago.

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Click here to visit my the landing page for “Heart of the Old Mill” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about rights-managed licensing for this image.

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Be sure to stop by my Waterfalls of Connecticut website to see my photography from a broad range of Connecticut’s exquisite waterfalls.

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All Things Connecticut New Print Releases The American Northeast

Iron Ghost on the Housatonic

Iron Ghost on the Housatonic (Lovers Leap Iron Bridge over the Housatonic River in Lovers Leap State Park,New Milford, Connecticut)
“Iron Ghost on the Housatonic”
Lovers Leap Iron Bridge over the Housatonic River in Lovers Leap State Park,
New Milford, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

During early autumn last year, I had the great pleasure of arriving at Lovers Leap State Park in New Milford, Connecticut on a warm, misty morning well before dawn. My newly-released piece, “Iron Ghost on the Housatonic”, was certainly my favorite from that dream-like riverscape along the Housatonic River.

The Lovers Leap Bridge, which is silhouetted in the faint twilight over the river gorge, has faithfully spanned the Housatonic since its construction back in 1895. Iron bridges such as these hit the market in the late 1800s and they were oftentimes the “high tech” replacements for older wooden covered bridges. Both bridge designs are rather antiquated these days, even if they were celebrated in their respective eras as marvels of engineering.

The 160-acre Lovers Leap State Park certainly drew its name from the bridge… and the bridge, in turn, drew its name from an old legend which suggests that a Native American girl named Lillinonah, overcome with distraught over a lost lover, leapt to her death here in the Housatonic River. One version of the tale suggests that the heart-broken lover jumped from a 1200-foot mountainous promontory in the heart of the park. But an alternate rendition holds that she threw herself from the precipice of the gorge where one of the abutments for the Lovers Leap Bridge would later be constructed.

The Old Crossing at Lovers Leap (Lovers Leap Iron Bridge over the Housatonic River in Lovers Leap State Park,New Milford, Connecticut)
“The Old Crossing at Lovers Leap”
Lovers Leap Iron Bridge over the Housatonic River in Lovers Leap State Park,
New Milford, Connecticut
© 2015 J. G. Coleman

Before I wrap up this post, though, I wanted to satiate the curiosity of the rare individual out there who will look at the mirror-smooth waters of the Housatonic River in my photograph (at top) and wonder,” How in the world could somebody perish by jumping into such a tame river?”

Fair enough… the Housatonic River doesn’t exactly look dangerous, does it? But to make sense of the story, we must consider the context of the tale. We know for certain that Lillinonah’s father, Chief Waramaug, died an old man around 1735. So, although we don’t know when exactly the Chief fathered Lillinonah, it’s probable that her tragic end took place somewhere between the 1690s and 1730s. Back then, the Housatonic River still ran wild through New Milford and surrounding lands in deep, precipitous gorges, churning with whitewater as it weaved down through the highlands. Snow melts and heavy rains could produce impressive and deadly displays as the river furiously crashed through its woodland gorges and threatened to flood.

It wasn’t until 1955 that a dam was constructed several miles downstream, impounding the Housatonic River all the way back up into New Milford. Suffice it to say, the placid stretch of river that you can see beneath the Lovers Leap Iron Bridge in my piece, “Iron Ghost on the Housatonic”, would’ve been raucous, swift-flowing rapids in the early days when Lillinonah took her fateful plunge.

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Click here to visit my landing page for “Iron Ghost on the Housatonic” to buy a beautiful fine art print or inquire about licensing this image.

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Be sure to check out all of my work from Lovers Leap State Park and the Lovers Leap Iron Bridge.

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All Things Connecticut The American Northeast

Looking Back at 2014: Some Favorites

There’s no doubt about it: 2014 was certainly a life-changing year for me. My twin daughters, Scarlett and Madison, made their grand entrance in July and they finished out the year able to coo, squawk (for lack of a better term), swing toys and smile with a sincerity that is bewilderingly beautiful.

But you’re here for the photographs, right? Well, my work throughout 2014 was more diverse than ever. I delved deeper into Connecticut’s natural landscapes; still seeking out little-known places, but also making a more concerted effort to find fresh ways of interpreting more prominent natural landmarks. I also made my way out west to New York’s Catskills where I had the privilege of shooting some truly sublime waterfalls.

And undoubtedly one of the most striking shifts in my work during 2014 has been my fascination with farmlands. From sprawling cornfields and time-worn barns to grazing livestock and clusters of round hay bales, I’ve found great satisfaction in broadening my subject matter beyond purely natural landscapes. The reason for this change is simple: after years of landscape photography, I’ve finally discovered that what motivates me —what keeps me forever in search of the next vista— is the gratifying quest to express the essence of New England’s heritage. Not just our natural heritage, but also our cultural heritage: our farms, our old mills, our lighthouses, our covered bridges and our untold miles of fieldstone walls.

So without further ado, here are my favorite thirty photographs from 2014.

Heavenly Bantam
Little Pond, White Memorial Conservation Center, Litchfield, Connecticut

Even though the weather report called for partly cloudy conditions on this humid morning, there was mostly just vacuous, open expanses of sky over these lush wetlands in Connecticut’s Northwest Hills. It wasn’t until I was on the boardwalk heading back to the trailhead that I paused momentarily to take a look at some of the large cattail leaves nearby. Glancing beyond the leaves, I noticed an opportunity to capture the searing glow of the morning sun through a lingering mist which still swirled about landscape.White Memorial Conservation Center, Litchfield, CT

 

Yankee Farmlands № 9
East Granby, Connecticut

This time-worn barn along a rural stretch of road in East Granby had caught my eye weeks before I produced this image. I drove by it on several different occasions as we transitioned into October, waiting for just the right conditions which would conjure the nostalgic feel of a New England autumn. While the barn may be what folks tend to notice first, its stately, half-bare companion tree is really just as much the subject of this image.

Barn in East Granby, Connecticut

 

Legend of Bash Bish
Bash Bish Falls State Park, Mount Washington, Massachusetts

Throughout 2014 I finally began to sincerely delve into the realm of black & white photography. The famous Bash Bish Falls of Massachusetts’ Berkshires was among the first subjects that I tackled and my interest with this image nudged me to keep at it the rest of the year, even if only infrequently.

Bash Bish Falls, Massachusetts

 

Bee Brook Autumn
Hidden Valley Preserve, Washington, Connecticut

By early October, most of Connecticut was still a few weeks from reaching peak autumn color, but the forests of Washington were already ablaze when I visited Bee Brook on a cool, overcast morning. Under spring or summertime conditions, this perspective is somewhat unremarkable, yet it takes on an entirely different character when every square foot of the forest floor is jacketed with a vivid mosaic of fallen leaves.

Bee Brook, Washington, Connecticut

 

Yankee Farmlands № 4
Bethlehem, Connecticut

When I happened upon this horse pasture just minutes after dawn, I knew I had quite a find on my hands. Horses stood quietly upon the hills, seeming almost contemplative amidst the hazy, humid atmosphere. Rendering a sunstar upon the back of the nearest horse was tricky, but I think it worked to introduce a stronger, more dramatic focal point in the composition.

Horse Pasture, Bethlehem, Connecticut

 

Awosting from the Heavens
Awosting Falls, Minnewaska State Park, Ulster County, New York

Several of the waterfalls in New York’s Catskills and Shawangunks feature impressive freefalls into broad, amphitheater-like gorges and Awosting Falls is no exception. For this shot, I used very deliberate framing and the perspective distortion of an ultra-wide-angle lens to create the illusion that the waterfall was dropping clean out of the sky into a dark pool amidst angular boulders and woodlands. In reality, it was plunging into the gorge from a ledge about 60 feet above my head.

Awosting Falls, Minnewaska State Park, Ulster County, New York

 

Black Rock Crescendo
Black Rock Harbor Light, Seaside Park, Bridgeport, Connecticut

The Black Rock Lighthouse is a welcome anachronism that sits upon a small island just off the coast of Bridgeport, one of Connecticut’s largest and busiest cities. When you walk to the island via a 1,000-foot breakwater and stand beside the tower as the sun rises over Long Island Sound, it’s surprisingly easy to forget about the warehouses and smokestacks which crowd the shores of the nearby mainland. I shot this photograph on the last day of winter in 2014 and the sunrise was so astonishingly beautiful —and yielded so many striking images— that I had quite a bit of difficulty selecting a “favorite”.

Black Rock Lighthouse on Black Rock Harbor, Seaside Park, Bridgeport, CT

 

As Yet Untitled
Broad Brook Reservoir, Cheshire, Connecticut

I spent the later half of my childhood just minutes from Broad Brook Reservoir, so its wooded shores and placid waters are inextricably linked to my memories from those early days. There’s just something about this lake which I find deeply comforting, so I felt especially privileged to be there during a positively glorious autumn morning in October just as strong, sharply-angled sunlight illuminated the lakeside forest.

Broad Brook Reservoir, Cheshire, Connecticut

 

Bull’s Crossing at Kent
Bull’s Bridge, Kent, Connecticut

For a good deal of 2013, I had been working on my Old Timbered Crossings project in which I sought to capture the distinctive character of each of the three 19th-century covered bridges remaining in Connecticut. Despite a handful of visits to this iconic bridge spanning the Housatonic River in Kent, it was the only one of the lot that I hadn’t checked off the list before the end of that year. When I lamented to a friend that none of my previous shots quite fulfilled my vision, he suggested trying to shoot the bridge from the opposite side. That simple recommendation held the key I’d been searching for and I managed to produce this photograph just about a week later on a frigid morning in late January 2014.

Bull's Bridge over the Housatonic River, Kent, Connecticut

 

Carpenter’s Summer
Carpenter’s Falls, McLean Game Refuge, Granby, Connecticut

Carpenter’s Falls, a small waterfall in the expansive McLean Game Refuge, was somewhat starved for water when I arrived in late June. I was half expecting this, since waterfalls that are raging with spring rains and snow melt generally tend to grow more and more tame as the months progress, bringing hotter temperatures and reduced rainfall. Sometimes this reduced water volume can sap a waterfall of its aesthetic impact, but Carpenter’s Falls managed to retain its lively character even as a singular braid of wispy whitewater amidst moss and woodland grasses.

Carpenter Falls, McLean Game Refuge, Granby, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Chapman Falls, Devil’s Hopyard State Park, East Haddam, Connecticut

Chapman Falls is one of Connecticut’s more prominent waterfalls. It is the aesthetic centerpiece of Devil’s Hopyard State Park and probably draws more visitors than any of the 1,000 acres of forest that surround it. As such, it tends to be photographed very often and it’s difficult to create a photograph there which makes an original statement. So, rather than shooting a head-on “portrait” of Chapman Falls, I instead mounted my camera on the tripod just inches from the water and let the swirling foam at the base of the falls do most of the talking.

Chapman Falls, Devil's Hopyard State Park, East Haddam, CT

 

Autumn at the Stone Church
Dover Stone Church, Dover, New York

The Dover Stone Church is one of those natural landmarks that was once quite celebrated during the Victorian Era, but which more or less fell off the map as long-distance automobile travel began to extinguish the novel excitement behind so many local curiosities in the American Northeast. Although it looks to be a deep cavern plunging into the earth, the Stone Church is actually more akin to a small slot canyon. Over thousands of years, the brook I’ve portrayed in the foreground managed to eroded its way down through a massive rock outcropping, eventually chiseling out an impressive, 30-foot-tall hollow in solid stone.

Dover Stone Church, Dover, New York

 

Yankee Farmlands № 12
Avon, Connecticut

The first snowfall of winter this year blanketed the stubble of harvested cornstalks at this farm on the borderlands between Avon and Farmington. This freshly-frosted landscape was positively beautiful, but it was the particularly the bare, sprawling crown of this lone tree amidst the fields that really caught my eye. Composing the shot such that the sun blazed through the silhouetted branches was my way of drawing the viewer’s eyes into the heart of the scene.

Farmland in Avon, Connecticut

 

Yankee Farmlands № 16
Durham, Connecticut

The transitional period between autumn and winter is, for me at least, the most challenging time of year to pursue landscape photography in New England. It’s late enough that the trees have grown bare and colorless, yet oftentimes still too early for a persistent snowpack. The result is a decidedly bleak landscape which sometimes leaves me feeling a bit uninspired. Nonetheless, I still hit the road and roll the proverbial dice in search of rare opportunities. My efforts paid off this time around when I discovered a gated pasture overlooking a wooded hill painted liberally with the warm light of dawn.

Pasture in Durham, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Bridgewater, Connecticut

Lover’s Leap State Park in Bridgewater offers a spectacular cliffside overlook with panoramic views of Lake Lillinonah, a scenic reservoir on the Housatonic River. I was sure that a blanket of fog rolling over the landscape would make for an epic sunrise photograph from the overlook on this particular morning. Instead, it thickened to the point that I couldn’t see anything more than 100 feet away, much less the sprawling lake below. Thankfully, my favorite image of the day was taken in the dark twilight before I had even made my way to the overlook! The fog was still relatively thin this early in the morning, offering the opportunity to capture a positively ethereal image of this antique iron bridge spanning the shadowy gorge of the Housatonic just upstream of the reservoir.

Iron Bridge Spanning the Housatonic River, Lover's Leap State Park, Bridgewater, Connecticut

 

Kaaterskill Shadows
Kaaterskill Falls, Kaaterskill Wild Forest, Hunter, New York

I had done several hours of online research and looked at dozens of images before setting out into New York’s Catskills to photograph Kaaterskill Falls, but seeing this majestic waterfall in-person still proved to be a genuinely memorable experience. Certainly one of the grandest waterfalls in the American Northeast, Kaaterskill Falls plunges some 260 feet over two impressive drops through a cavernous gorge crowded by woodlands. This black & white photograph was certainly among my favorites from that trip, featuring the upper tier of Kaaterskill as it freefalls 170 feet over a precipitous cliff into a shallow pool below.

Kaaterskill Falls, Kaaterskill Wild Forest, Hunter, New York

 

Last Throes of Winter
Kent Falls State Park, Kent, Connecticut

Kent Falls is one of those places that has, as I oftentimes put it, generally been “shot to death” by Connecticut nature photographers. What I mean is simply that the obvious, scenic viewpoints along the falls have been photographed so many times that it’s extremely challenging to go there and produce images that offer some measure of uniqueness. I had that very thought in mind on a frigid morning in April after a springtime squall dumped a few inches of snow on Connecticut’s Northwest Hills. Instead of shooting for the larger waterfalls, I decided emphasize the more subtle characteristics of the cascades, the striated bedrock of the riverbed and the freshly-frosted forest.

Kent Falls, Kent, Connecticut

 

Winter’s Kiss
Black Pond SWMA, Middlefield, Connecticut

Between the subtle lighting and the delicate frost, this jumble of fallen oak leaves offers me more than just a visual impression… I can feel the chill in the air and hear the brittle, icy leaf litter crunching underfoot as I walk along. When I arrived at Black Pond on this cold morning just about a week before the winter solstice, I had every intention of leaving with a landscape photograph. Suitable conditions just didn’t materialize, but that proved to be a stroke of luck, since I might otherwise have carelessly stepped right over this miniature leafscape.

Leaves ay Black Pond, Middlefield, Connecticut

 

True Niagara
Niagara Falls, Canada

When I initially attempted to photograph Niagara Falls from the west corner of the Canadian horseshoe in early April, I was confronted by an absolutely frigid mist blasting so forcefully out of the gorge that I could scarcely finish a single exposure before my lens was glistening with water and required cleaning. Shooting conditions like that simply weren’t going to work, so I was faced with trying to find an alternative. As it happens, I did ultimately figure out how to shoot these falls without soaking my camera and this photograph, in which I tightly framed the falls, mist and upstream rapids, proved to be my favorite image of the trip. How did I do it? Well, I shot it through a window more than 30 stories in the air during morning twilight… all from the warmth and privacy of my hotel room. Sometimes, it’s best to improvise!

Horseshoe Falls, Niagara Falls, Canada

 

Dominion of the Gulls
Pleasure Beach, Bridgeport, Connecticut

Anyone not well-versed in the fairly obscure story of Pleasure Beach may wonder how so many seashells could find their way on top of a bridge. Interestingly, they were all deposited there by seagulls which cleverly break open snails and clams by dropping them upon the rigid bridge decking from a few dozen feet in the air. Because Pleasure Beach has been abandoned for nearly two decades, there was more than enough time for the fragmented shells to accumulate. (Side note: After several years of abandonment, Pleasure Beach was officially reopened as a city park in 2014, just a month or so after I took this photograph.)

Pleasure Beach, Bridgeport, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Sleeping Giant State Park, Hamden, Connecticut

One thing is for sure: man-made structures were more prominent in my photography throughout 2014 than they had been for all of the prior years combined. My Old Timbered Crossings project, for example, featured covered bridges and my on-going Yankee Farmlands project oftentimes incorporates barns, silos and fences. In this case, my subject was the ruins of a long-abandoned quarry facility in Sleeping Giant State Park. The old quarry operation blasted traprock from one of the adjacent Sleeping Giant mountains until 1933 when determined conservationists thankfully purchased and preserved the land.

Quarry Ruin at Sleeping Giant State Park, Hamden, Connecticut

 

Saugatuck Whitewater
Saugatuck Falls Natural Area, Redding, Connecticut

By mid to late summer, the Saugatuck River in Redding assumes a fairly tame demeanor as it loses water volume to dwindling rains and hotter temperatures. Head there in May like I did, though, and you’re likely to find the banks inundated and the waters angrily peeling through boulder-laden rapids just below Saugatuck Falls. The powerful impression of rugged remoteness contained in this photograph is one reason why it’s among my favorites of 2014. Looks can be a bit deceiving, though: if I were to walk just 200 feet west from this scene through woods, I would find myself on the shoulder of Route 53.

Saugatuck Falls, Saugatuck Falls Natural Area, Redding, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Scovill Reservoir, Wolcott, Connecticut

Scovill Reservoir is near and dear to me… and when I say it’s near, I mean that I can drive there in a few seconds. Not only is it my bass fishing hole, but it’s also a fairly picturesque lake in its own right. The advantage to living right beside this wooded pond is that I constantly have the opportunity to make the most of interesting conditions, experimenting with new perspectives or re-interpreting the view from my favorite spots. This photograph of a small cove is my top pick for Scovill Reservoir in 2014 because I was able to bring together so many elements: the dramatic clouds of dawn, the densely wooded shores, the lush vegetation thriving at the water’s edge and fallen pine needles collecting in the shallows.

Scovill Reservoir, Wolcott, Connecticut

 

Yankee Farmlands № 7
East Windsor, Connecticut

This past summer, I began working on my Tobacco Valley project in which I seek to document the rhythms, sights, and textures of tobacco agriculture in the Connecticut River Valley. I’m very excited about this project, but I’ve mostly kept my work on it under wraps until I can complete a year’s worth of shooting and really capture the character of these unique Connecticut farmlands throughout every season. I’ll make an exception for this retrospective, though: this photograph of a shade tobacco farm in East Windsor was certainly among my favorites for 2014 (you can see one more piece from my Tobacco Valley project in this retrospective, also; I just couldn’t help myself!). If you’re interested in seeing the full range of work included in my Tobacco Valley project, rest assured that I’m still out there actively shooting. Keep your eyes peeled in the later half of 2015!

Shade Tobacco Farm, East Windsor, Connecticut

 

Shepaug Rejoicing
Washington, Connecticut

When I captured this photograph of a glorious shaft of light pouring over the forest into the Shepaug River gorge in Washington, I couldn’t possibly have known that my camera would vanish without a trace just a week later. Indeed, one of the low points of 2014 was undoubtedly waking up in early autumn to find that almost all of my gear had been stolen from my truck… right in my own driveway no less! That was a pretty demoralizing blow which came in the middle of one of New England’s most photogenic times of year. Insurance came through, of course, and I was back up and running by early November… but by that time, the forests were more or less stripped bare.

Shepaug River, Hidden Valley Preserve, Washington, Connecticut

 

Yankee Farmlands № 5
Simsbury, Connecticut

This is probably one of the more subtle photographs that made it into my Favorite 30 of 2014. Driving along on a quiet road in Simsbury, I discovered this cluster of large, round hay bales nestled beside a small stand of woodlands just days after they’d been collected from an adjacent hayfield. There’s no eye-melting sunrise here, no majestic waterfall, no dreamy fog; just the quietude at the edge of the farm and a beautiful interplay between light and shadow that just sort of grasps my sensibilities for one reason or another.

Hay Bales in Simsbury, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Talcott Mountain State Park, Simsbury, Connecticut

Rising nearly 1,000 feet over the surrounding landscape in Simsbury, Talcott Mountain is certainly one of the more prominent traprock ridges of the Metacomet Range. Perched atop the high cliffs is the 165-foot tall Hublein Tower, imparting a unique element to the profile of this otherwise gently-sloping, wooded ridge. I’ve photographed Talcott Mountain several times during every season, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking quite as beautiful as it did on this day in early October as the setting sun cast a warm glow upon the landscape and threw long shadows across the cornfields. I hadn’t even intended on stopping when I drove by, but within moments of passing this vista I knew I had to turn around and get the tripod set up as quickly as possible.

Talcott Mountain, Simsbury, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Simsbury, Connecticut

In the 1920s and 1930s, roughly 15,000 acres of farmland in Northern Connecticut was dedicated to the cultivation of tobacco. Although some of the world’s finest tobacco still comes from that region, the market has atrophied in the past century and most of the old farms have been supplanted by corporate office buildings, suburbs and woodlands. Drive around enough on the backroads, though, and you’ll occasionally stumble upon decades-old abandoned barns that were once used to dry the freshly-harvested crops. I captured this image inside one of those old barns as bright, mid-day sunlight pierced the weathered siding.

Interior of Abandoned Tobacco Shed, Simsbury, Connecticut

 

The Wild Coginchaug
Simsbury, Connecticut

If you found me out on the Coginchaug River on this drizzly, overcast day in late April, chances are pretty good that I would’ve been donning my waders, fishing vest and trout rod; fishing was really all I had in mind at the time. After hooking into a few, I set my attention to Wadsworth Falls and noticed that the roaring whitewater was churning up patches of foam that drifted quite far downstream before dissipating. I suddenly envisioned an image and returned to my truck, swapping my fishing pole for my camera gear. This was the photograph which was born out of that chance visualization.

Wadsworth Falls, Middlefield, Connecticut

 

As Yet Untitled
Westbrook, Connecticut

Taken in the context of Connecticut’s 100 miles of coastline, West Beach is just a little-known, 1/2-mile sandy beach in the small, little-known town of Westbrook. I suppose that the ordinary person might consider it to be a fairly unremarkable stretch of shoreline. And yet, having grown up there each summer as a child, I cannot possibly overstate the immense role that this beloved beach has played in my life. Years of exploring the sandbars, offshore islands and saltwater wildlife has indelibly etched this seascape into my psyche… perhaps even helped to shape me into the person I am today. I take several dozen photographs of West Beach every year and this past year was no exception, though this piece was easily my favorite of 2014.

West Beach, Westbrook, Connecticut

 

Looking Ahead to a Promising 2015

There you have it… my favorite 30 photographs of 2014. Again, many strong photographs just couldn’t be fit edgewise into this limited-length line-up, so be sure to check out the broad range of work that I released over 2014 at my online galleries. Also, be sure to follow my work on the social network of your choice: Facebook, Flickr, Google Plus, Instagram… I’ve got em all.

But most importantly, I hope you look forward to a promising 2015 and embrace the opportunities and fortunes that come your way, while weathering with resolve the difficulties that may lie between. I leave you now with the words of Henry Ward Beecher:

“Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the things that were and are past.”

-Henry Ward Beecher (1887)

As part of J. G. Coleman’s Decor Series prints, many of the works seen here are available at Fine Art America. You are encouraged to visit J. G. Coleman’s Fine Art America eStore, or see all of Fine Art America’s nature art.

Categories
All Things Connecticut New Print Releases

What Remains of the Joy

What Remains of the Joy (Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut)
“What Remains of the Joy”
Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

“It is said that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who’s to care then, if time does not remember us? It flies by, fleeting, inattentive and disinterested in any occupants of this earth. What are we, then, if time thinks so little of everyone it passes?”

—Alexia Purdy, “Disarming”

Abandoned places possess a unique allure for those who are receptive to the stories that resonate in the hollows of their vacant buildings and crumbling foundations. Few places in Connecticut so strongly embodied the “post-apocalypse” aesthetic as Pleasure Beach, a deserted amusement park and cottage village which stood vacant for nearly two decades at the end of a two-mile peninsula on Long Island Sound. My newly-released work features the quiet landscapes of this ghost town and seeks out untroubled beauty in a place where the rhythms and sounds of mankind have been extinguished.

Beginning in the late 1890s, Pleasure Beach emerged as a modest amusement park and beach cottage community situated at the end of a long peninsula that extended westward from the coast of Stratford into Bridgeport Harbor. Although it was initially accessible only by ferry, a swing bridge was eventually constructed in the 1920s which connected Pleasure Beach to the coast of Bridgeport and permitted easy access for pedestrians and automobiles alike.

A Wall Overtaken (Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut)
“A Wall Overtaken”
Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

The next five decades proved tumultuous for the amusement park. Throughout the years, it would enjoy periods during which it was wildly successful, only to grow run-down and be sold off when shifts in economy or culture led to declines in attendance. But whenever Pleasure Beach reached the brink of abandonment, it seemed that another owner would step up and take the reins for some number of years. When a fire ripped through the park in the 1950s, its days as a proper amusement park were numbered, but a beer garden, dance pavilion, playhouse and other disparate attractions remained and continued to draw some visitors for another two decades. When the dance pavilion succumbed to fire in the 1970s, and with the rest of the structures beginning to show their age, the 80-year legacy of Pleasure Beach finally came to a close.

For owners of the dozens of cottages adjacent to the defunct amusement park, though, the closure may perhaps have been a welcome source of quietude. After all, they continued to enjoy their seaside properties for another two decades, accessing them via the same old, trusty swing bridge that once serviced Pleasure Beach. But even this lingering human presence would not last. In an all too common scenario for Pleasure Beach, fire engulfed the mid-section of the bridge in 1996, destroying the only road to the cottages. With municipal emergency vehicles no longer able to access the area, the cottagers were evicted. They hauled away whatever of their belongings they could by barge and the entire neighborhood of cottages, alive with summertime joy just a year earlier, quite suddenly became Connecticut’s largest ghost town.

Dominion of the Gulls (Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut)
“Dominion of the Gulls”
Pleasure Beach on Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

My piece, Dominion of the Gulls, was taken upon the stub of the decaying swing bridge that still extends from Pleasure Beach towards the Bridgeport mainland (the charred mid-section of the bridge was directly behind me). Ever since Pleasure Beach was abandoned almost two decades ago, clever herring gulls have been cracking open clams, oysters and snails by dropping them upon the bridge decking from dozens of feet in the air. Some of my other works above, such as What Remains of the Joy (top) and A Wall Overtaken, portray further ruins such as broken lamp posts and crumbling seawalls which are commonplace along the beaches.

Dawn Over Lewis Gut (Lewis Gut, Pleasure Beach & the Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut)
“Dawn Over Lewis Gut”
Lewis Gut beside Pleasure Beach & the Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

But despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the abandonment of Pleasure Beach, there’s no doubt that nearly two decades of isolation from the densely populated mainland has returned this barrier peninsula to a wild state. My pieces, Dawn Over Lewis Gut and Lewis Gut, Tide Withdrawn, celebrate the natural beauty that has persisted at Pleasure Beach even as time and vandalism took its toll upon the structures. For the benefit of the inquisitive, it’s worth mentioning that Lewis Gut is the narrow cove which separates Pleasure Beach and the Long Beach Peninsula from the mainland of Stratford. The term “gut” for a cove or bay always struck me as somewhat odd, though I’ve come to discover that it is in no way without precedent.

For sure, the story of Pleasure Beach could’ve ended with its abandonment in 1996, but both Bridgeport and Stratford have shown renewed interest in the land over recent years. For its own part, Stratford went ahead and demolished the dozens of decaying cottages adjacent to Pleasure Beach back in 2011, eventually selling its stake in the peninsula to the federal government for preservation as valuable breeding habitat for shorebirds. Bridgeport has gone a different direction, reopening the grounds of Pleasure Beach as a town park. In fact, as of June 28, 2014, ferries began shuttling visitors back and forth between the mainland and the newly-constructed dock on the tip of the peninsula.

Lewis Gut, Tide Withdrawn (Lewis Gut beside Pleasure Beach and Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut)
“Lewis Gut, Tide Withdrawn”
Lewis Gut beside Pleasure Beach and Long Beach Peninsula, Bridgeport, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

Between reanimating the peninsula with sounds of summertime joy and setting aside a large swath as conservation land, one could hardly imagine a more positive direction for the latest chapter in the story of Pleasure Beach. That being said, I would be lying if I didn’t admit at least a hint of regret that Connecticut’s most distinctive ghost town —and, for that matter, one of its most peculiar wildland areas— has suddenly become quite a bit more tame and pedestrian. In this day in age, as Connecticut is further developed and quiet, out-of-the-way places seem to be vanishing, the notion of a modern ghost town of any sort existing in the state seems preposterous. For better or worse, civilization in Southern New England abhors a vacuum and one would think that such a large expanse of beachfront property would have been swallowed up by a developer long ago. Indeed, its remarkable that Pleasure Beach persisted so long in its barren state in spite of the hustle and bustle on the nearby mainland. For well over a century, though, Pleasure Beach has been characterized by change and by ever-repeating patterns of renewal and exhaustion. Seeing this place revived from its ruins may be bittersweet in a certain sense, but its a fitting addition to the saga of Pleasure Beach.

For those who are curious, the photographs seen here were produced in March 2014, roughly three months before Pleasure Beach was reopened for the first time in 18 years.

Want to See More?

Categories
All Things Connecticut Events and Awards

Exhibition at Noah Webster Gallery

Artwork from the Waterfalls of Connecticut Show hanging at Noah Webster Library

My Waterfalls of Connecticut collection is on display during the entire month of July at the Noah Webster Library Gallery in West Hartford, Connecticut.

During the month of July, a selection of my prints will be on display at the Noah Webster Library Gallery in West Hartford, Connecticut. The exhibition theme is “Waterfalls of Connecticut” and you’ll enjoy 15 pieces that portray a range of waterfalls from diverse areas of the state. If you haven’t had an opportunity yet to see one of my finished pieces -a framed and matted print- then this your chance to see a wide range of them all in one place in a relaxed and especially quiet venue.

Although waterfalls represent only a portion of my subject matter, there’s little doubt that I have a special affinity for them. Over the course of more than four years, I’ve dedicated considerable time and creative energy to producing photographs that capture the unique sense of place that these waterscapes offer. Earlier this year I released a collection of images, also titled “Waterfalls of Connecticut“, which portrays thirty waterfalls from around the state and celebrates my aesthetic fascination with cascading water.

My Waterfalls of Connecticut exhibition at the West Hartford Library is based upon my earlier collection and incorporates some of the pieces that you may be familiar with already. However, I’ve also included in this showing a number of pieces that were produced in just the past 6 months. For that matter, some of the pieces on display feature waterfalls that weren’t included in the original Waterfalls of Connecticut collection.

So whether or not you’re familiar with my original Waterfalls of Connecticut collection, there’s still plenty to see at this exhibition. In addition, I’ve also hung all three of the pieces from my newest collection, Old Timbered Crossings, which features the last three historic covered bridges left in Connecticut.

Consider yourself invited to visit the Noah Webster Library at any time during the month of July to see my work!

When and Where

Location:
Noah Webster Library
20 South Main Street
West Hartford, CT 06107

Duration:
June 30 – July 31, 2014

Other Info:
The gallery area is located on the main floor. Don’t hesitate to ask the library staff at the front desk.

As part of J. G. Coleman’s Decor Series prints, all of the works seen at the exhibition are available at Fine Art America. You are encouraged to visit J. G. Coleman’s Fine Art America eStore, or see all of Fine Art America’s waterfall art.

Categories
All Things Connecticut New Print Releases

Connecticut’s Old Timbered Crossings

Comstock Crossing at East Hampton (Comstock Covered Bridge over the Salmon River, East Hampton, Connecticut)
“Comstock Crossing at East Hampton”
Comstock Covered Bridge over the Salmon River, East Hampton, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

Potent remnants of classic New England are few and far between these days. Thousands of fields abandoned a century ago have returned to a natural state, bristling with woodlands where once there were croplands or rolling pastures. Mills that once clustered along the banks of streams in each village –grinding grain, cutting lumber, producing cider– have all vanished, along with a great deal of the dams and water wheels that animated their machinery. When it comes to covered bridges, there are still a few vestiges of the old days that remain, and these enduring icons of early infrastructure are the focus of my newest fine arts prints.

My collection, Old Timbered Crossings, is a series of three newly-released works, each featuring one of Connecticut’s authentic, historic covered bridges. From the moment I began considering this project, I knew that each bridge needed to be represented in a way that uniquely conveyed its character. I wanted to illuminate the rustic beauty that inspired 20th-century folks to take up the role of advocate and steward and push for these relics to be preserved and protected, even as the pressures of the modern world seemed to preclude their continued existence.

Roughly a year elapsed between the moment that I first began to consider the concept of Old Timbered Crossings to the winter day below Bull’s Bridge during which I completed the series. In that time, my interest in these bridges naturally grew deeper. I wasn’t only interested in their weathered siding and rural surroundings, but also in the culture and the long-lost way of life from which these resourceful structures emerged. These bridges, I discovered, are so much more than just old timbered crossings. For those that are receptive to their story, they are rare portals into a bygone era of New England. They serve as windows into the past, inviting us to reflect upon times when culture and daily life was simpler and more relaxed, but also toilsome and oftentimes unforgiving.

These covered bridges embody core elements of New England life: beauty, ingenuity and hardship. So although they may have outlived their era of functional relevance, they have emerged in modern times with a more enduring role, standing as potent reminders of who we are amidst a world in which it is so easy to lose ourselves.

A Look Back: Covered Bridges in Old Connecticut

Throughout most of the 1800s, covered bridges played an absolutely critical role in American transportation. Rivers needed to be crossed in order to haul goods to neighboring towns, get to church on Sunday or simply to travel from place to place for business, school and leisure. And in an era when durable metal components weren’t an option, the only way to make a long-lasting wooden bridge was to fit it with a roof to protect its structural timbers from the elements. So at any given time during the 1800s, there were untold dozens of covered bridges that dotted the state, spanning all manner of waterway from obscure brooks to the vast Connecticut River.

Bull's Crossing at Kent (Bull's Bridge over the Housatonic River, Kent, Connecticut)
“Bull’s Crossing at Kent”
Bull’s Bridge over the Housatonic River, Kent, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

Although there may have been earlier examples, the first documented covered bridge in Connecticut was built in 1817 and spanned the Shetucket River between Norwich and Preston. It was washed away by spring floods just six years later, a scenario that would prove to be all too common for the roughly century-long reign of the covered bridge.

Only three of Connecticut’s authentic, 19th-century covered bridges have stayed with us into modern times. The West Cornwall Covered Bridge, built in the 1860s in Cornwall, and Bull’s Bridge, built in 1841 in Kent, both span the Housatonic River as it snakes through Connecticut’s Northwest Hills. Comstock Covered Bridge, built in 1873 over the Salmon River in East Hampton, is the last covered bridge in the eastern half of the state.

It’s only natural that we might wonder what ever became of the covered bridges that were once common sights throughout Connecticut. Why are there only three left if once there were several dozen? Even though some simply grew old and were decommissioned, their failures were oftentimes more spectacular. Two centuries worth of records seem to reveal that bridges most often succumbed to the very rivers and streams they spanned, being washed away during spring floods. Others were destroyed by ice dams, succumbed to fire or were ruined when mill dams broke upstream. It was not uncommon that a given bridge might be destroyed multiple times over just a decade or two, each time being rebuilt out of necessity. Not only was this quite costly, but these bridge failures also served to severely disrupt local travel. For about a century, though, the perennial hardship of covered bridge maintenance was simply accepted as a reality of New England life. The more advanced designs for covered bridges were even hailed as marvels of engineering.

All of that began to change in the mid-1800s as the burgeoning railroad system sought to cross Connecticut’s many rivers. Covered bridges simply couldn’t bear the enormous weight of locomotives and designers responded by engineering the first iron bridges, which offered significantly greater strength and durability than wood. Such bridges were initially too expensive for anything besides railroad projects, but it didn’t take long for more affordable designs to hit the market. All over the state, as wooden covered bridges built in the earlier half of 1800s collapsed or grew older and became unsafe, they were commonly supplanted by iron bridges that offered a greater carrying capacity and a much longer lifespan. By the 1870s, it was becoming increasingly rare for towns to invest in building new covered bridges in all but the most rural areas.

Hart's Crossing at West Cornwall (West Cornwall Covered Bridge over the Housatonic River, Cornwall, Connecticut)
“Hart’s Crossing at West Cornwall”
West Cornwall Covered Bridge over the Housatonic River, Cornwall, Connecticut
© 2014 J. G. Coleman

By the 1920s, Connecticut’s population had grown larger than ever and, with the ever-increasing ubiquity of the automobile, people were travelling much more frequently. New wooden bridges were no longer being constructed and the increased strain on infrastructure proved to be the final straw for many that had somehow managed to hold up into the 20th-century. What few covered bridges were left around this time would all mostly be gone within a couple decades. In some cases, collapsed or dilapidated bridges were not replaced, but simply decommissioned once and for all with traffic being forever re-routed to newer bridges nearby. Bridges that had carried traffic for two or three generations were suddenly erased from the map so thoroughly that, in modern times, you would never even know they had once stood there.

So while we may think of these rustic covered bridges as romantic anachronisms, the fact of the matter is that most Connecticut towns were probably quite relieved when, one by one, all of their high maintenance wooden bridges were replaced with considerably more durable structures. Even their aesthetics were often unappreciated; one Highway Engineer from Oregon wrote in a 1914 report that wooden covered bridges had many benefits, but listed among their downfalls that they “do not present a pleasing appearance”. In Connecticut, it wasn’t until mid-century that folks began to realize the swiftness with which covered bridges had all but vanished from the landscape. During the 1940s and 50s, for example, many older folks could probably still remember a time when their home towns relied upon covered bridges; their grandchildren, on the other hand, would already have thought of those wooden structures as novel antiques.

Want to See More?

To buy a fine art print from my Old Timbered Crossings series, view the collection landing page at my online galleries.

As part of J. G. Coleman’s Decor Series prints, all of the works seen here are available at Pixels.com. You are encouraged to visit J. G. Coleman’s Pixels Art Store, or see all of Fine Art America’s covered bridge art.