I’m here to tell you what the tourism honchos won’t: Fall foliage is disappointing this year.
All in Photos
I’m here to tell you what the tourism honchos won’t: Fall foliage is disappointing this year.
If there’s one drawback to living in coastal Virginia, besides the clowns in local government, it’s an absence of fall colors.
Sifting through a box of recently discovered photos of my mother’s family, I find nothing but profoundly unattractive ancestors and eccentricity.
These postcards date from the mid-1930s to the 1950s, when oceanfront hotels were graceful three-story inns with wraparound porches. Before long, they’d be demolished to make way for blocky towers of rooms that blotted out the midday sun.
This stretch of highway may may seem to hold nothing but warehouses and weeds, but apparently this is Virginia's wine country.
I’ve been scouring family photo albums looking for a presentable ancestor from a multitude of jug-eared Irish peasants. Just one.
Truthfully, even as a teenager I wasn’t what anyone would call photogenic. In fact, in high school I sat for three sets of senior portraits before I got one that wasn’t too heinous for the yearbook.