One snowy evening I drove out to Woodstock to see the village glowing under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. I brought my tripod for long exposures, hoping to depict a busy village full of last-minute shoppers and the usual traffic along Central Street and the green. The only souls I found out on this night were a few guests from the Woodstock Inn, a villager walking her dog, and a crew busy clearing the roads.
It was bitter cold and damp. My lenses fogged, and my camera kept loosening from my tripod. Alas, I created a few images that illuminate this storybook village in a winter brilliance. I will return another night— earlier, in clearer weather—to capture the busy current of townsfolk and locals who flow throughout the streets and shops and roads.
Winter is not a season, it’s a celebration.
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