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User / Frank C. Grace (Trig Photography) / Sets / Little Maud Reynolds
Frank Grace / 6 items

N 18 B 2.9K C 5 E Aug 7, 2021 F Aug 21, 2021
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"The Search for more than just the Grave of Little Maud Reynolds"
August 7, 2021
Hell Hollow area of the Pachaug State Forest
Moosup, CT

*snap, snap, snap*
small branches breaking underfoot,
entering an ancient wooded land
the trees and foliage shade me the harsh Summer afternoon sun
insects scream at me hungry for some bloody nutrition

searching for someone from the distant possible past
Is she even here and will I even be lucky enough to find her?
the overgrown path splits, demanding I choose a direction
indecisively I pause, which way?
There are no signs pointing me to where I want to go
left? right? just go back? This is new terrain for me
"Just another metaphor for life's journey" I think as I smile to myself

I keep on, trying not to stumble on the uneven forest floor
"You're alone, so be careful" I tell myself
did I choose the right path?
I stop again and second guess myself
yes, I convince myself that something feels "right" about this way

I go deeper into and under the forest's canopy
the woodlands seems to sing an welcoming invitation as the wind gently picks up and whistles through the branches
the Pachaug State Forest now comes to life with sunbeams, moving shadows and sound
way up high branches brush against one another like a bow to taunt violin strings
I swear I hear the song change the symphony to a gloomy C#m drone
soaking it all in I imagine the performance is just for me but I know better

this IS the way
the path starts to slowly incline
fallen branches everywhere
this path is not well maintained but I hold onto what little hope I have
the soothing bubbling sound of a gentle running stream is ahead
As I step across the water, I picture the animals that must quench their thirst here

Continuing, it's gradually more quiet
No doubt about it, it's eerie here and it's affecting me

an enormous tree is up ahead to my right
it is slightly tilted with it's gigantic gnarly trunk fighting to hold roots into the ground
damn, the forest is intensely quiet now
Something about that tree stops me in my tracks
I want to take a photograph of this behemoth but it is not what I'm seeking and I instinctively turn to my left
and there she is

a beacon, no more like a spotlight of sunlight unveils who I came to find,
it is still oddly quiet now as I can't take my gaze off where she is
I can hear my irregular heartbeat pounding from the walk,
It’s defective and shit, I’m also out of shape
a constant reminder of my mortality, how morbidly apropos, I just smile again
maybe it's just because my mind is totally focused on the other task
but all around is dead quiet
it's not tranquil quiet but becoming a deafening silence

shadows and light continue to paint the scene but I can no longer hear the droning forest symphony
there is a distinct heavy and solemn mood that seems to be anchored to this very spot
it is overwhelming and the emotions unexpectedly blanket me

She is right there,

a small standing rock acting as a tiny monument to someone from the possible past
someone who we made into a legend
we say her name was Little Maud Reynolds
Said to have tragically passed around 2 years into her brief life
why, how or when? The are many variations to the legend
no one knows for sure so we creatively fill in the blanks

this is said to be her final resting place but there is an undeniable unrest I feel here
did she really exist or is it just another story passed down

There is no visible name engraved onto the face of the stone but it doesn't matter to those who seek to find the spot

there are candles, coins, and other offerings here
a few jars of odd earthy substances surround the resting place as well as a sharpened pointed stick resembling a handmade weapon standing against the marker
small trails of melted candle wax decorates the face of the tiny barely standing memorial

we come here for a connection with her and the past
with hopes to communicate and bridge an unimaginable divide of "who was" and "who is"

we all desire to know that once we breathe our last breathe,
think our last thought or share a last embrace
that life isn't over,
better yet, WE are not over

speak to us Maud and offer us the reassurance we desperately crave

for a time, my focus is not on the tiny standing stone anymore,
It shifts to the ferocious hunger of wanting to know
How can a hike in the woods with a camera become so existential?

I begrudgingly settle with the uneasy notion that maybe we aren't meant to know or that may never know until it's our time, or if at all
or do we even really want to know?

the old familiar feeling wells up inside me and I lament on the thoughts rushing through my head,
questions that never seem to have an answer

the sound of a branch falling from a tree behind me jerks me back into the present and I remember why I took this journey

*click, click, click, click, click*

the sound of my camera recording the scene disrupts the stillness
to take a small piece of this back home with me, if only in an image

I center myself and get immersed in the legend again and attempt to gather my thoughts

a look at Little Maud Reynolds grave one last time
as I head back down the path that brought me here, I wonder how or even if an image could possibly exude the awe, emotions and atmosphere here as well the convey our longing to know what, if anything, awaits us

Tags:   Moosup Connecticut United States New England history historic New England Legends legend tripping haunted house home paranormal activity HDR high dynamic range photography creepy spooky legendary ghost 18th century grave graves buried Frank C. Grace Frank Grace Trig Photography Sony A7RIV Sony alpha supernatural activity ournewenglandlegends haunt on1pics unexplained lights sounds apparitions Voluntown Sterling Maud's Grave Maude's Grave Native American woman smallpox Maud Reynolds diphtheria Hell Hollow hidden Cedar Swamp Road unmarked grave Route 49 Rt 49 broken woods forest exploring searching Pachaug State Forest tomb tombstone Sigma 105

N 25 B 2.9K C 3 E Aug 7, 2021 F Aug 21, 2021
  • DESCRIPTION
  • COMMENT
  • O
  • L
  • M

"The Search for more than just the Grave of Little Maud Reynolds"
August 7, 2021
Hell Hollow area of the Pachaug State Forest
Moosup, CT

*snap, snap, snap*
small branches breaking underfoot,
entering an ancient wooded land
the trees and foliage shade me the harsh Summer afternoon sun
insects scream at me hungry for some bloody nutrition

searching for someone from the distant possible past
Is she even here and will I even be lucky enough to find her?
the overgrown path splits, demanding I choose a direction
indecisively I pause, which way?
There are no signs pointing me to where I want to go
left? right? just go back? This is new terrain for me
"Just another metaphor for life's journey" I think as I smile to myself

I keep on, trying not to stumble on the uneven forest floor
"You're alone, so be careful" I tell myself
did I choose the right path?
I stop again and second guess myself
yes, I convince myself that something feels "right" about this way

I go deeper into and under the forest's canopy
the woodlands seems to sing an welcoming invitation as the wind gently picks up and whistles through the branches
the Pachaug State Forest now comes to life with sunbeams, moving shadows and sound
way up high branches brush against one another like a bow to taunt violin strings
I swear I hear the song change the symphony to a gloomy C#m drone
soaking it all in I imagine the performance is just for me but I know better

this IS the way
the path starts to slowly incline
fallen branches everywhere
this path is not well maintained but I hold onto what little hope I have
the soothing bubbling sound of a gentle running stream is ahead
As I step across the water, I picture the animals that must quench their thirst here

Continuing, it's gradually more quiet
No doubt about it, it's eerie here and it's affecting me

an enormous tree is up ahead to my right
it is slightly tilted with it's gigantic gnarly trunk fighting to hold roots into the ground
damn, the forest is intensely quiet now
Something about that tree stops me in my tracks
I want to take a photograph of this behemoth but it is not what I'm seeking and I instinctively turn to my left
and there she is

a beacon, no more like a spotlight of sunlight unveils who I came to find,
it is still oddly quiet now as I can't take my gaze off where she is
I can hear my irregular heartbeat pounding from the walk,
It’s defective and shit, I’m also out of shape
a constant reminder of my mortality, how morbidly apropos, I just smile again
maybe it's just because my mind is totally focused on the other task
but all around is dead quiet
it's not tranquil quiet but becoming a deafening silence

shadows and light continue to paint the scene but I can no longer hear the droning forest symphony
there is a distinct heavy and solemn mood that seems to be anchored to this very spot
it is overwhelming and the emotions unexpectedly blanket me

She is right there,

a small standing rock acting as a tiny monument to someone from the possible past
someone who we made into a legend
we say her name was Little Maud Reynolds
Said to have tragically passed around 2 years into her brief life
why, how or when? The are many variations to the legend
no one knows for sure so we creatively fill in the blanks

this is said to be her final resting place but there is an undeniable unrest I feel here
did she really exist or is it just another story passed down

There is no visible name engraved onto the face of the stone but it doesn't matter to those who seek to find the spot

there are candles, coins, and other offerings here
a few jars of odd earthy substances surround the resting place as well as a sharpened pointed stick resembling a handmade weapon standing against the marker
small trails of melted candle wax decorates the face of the tiny barely standing memorial

we come here for a connection with her and the past
with hopes to communicate and bridge an unimaginable divide of "who was" and "who is"

we all desire to know that once we breathe our last breathe,
think our last thought or share a last embrace
that life isn't over,
better yet, WE are not over

speak to us Maud and offer us the reassurance we desperately crave

for a time, my focus is not on the tiny standing stone anymore,
It shifts to the ferocious hunger of wanting to know
How can a hike in the woods with a camera become so existential?

I begrudgingly settle with the uneasy notion that maybe we aren't meant to know or that may never know until it's our time, or if at all
or do we even really want to know?

the old familiar feeling wells up inside me and I lament on the thoughts rushing through my head,
questions that never seem to have an answer

the sound of a branch falling from a tree behind me jerks me back into the present and I remember why I took this journey

*click, click, click, click, click*

the sound of my camera recording the scene disrupts the stillness
to take a small piece of this back home with me, if only in an image

I center myself and get immersed in the legend again and attempt to gather my thoughts

a look at Little Maud Reynolds grave one last time
as I head back down the path that brought me here, I wonder how or even if an image could possibly exude the awe, emotions and atmosphere here as well the convey our longing to know what, if anything, awaits us

#newenglandlegends #maudsgrave #maudesgrave #grave #Connecticut #hellhollowroad #photography #buried #legendtripping #haunting #ghosthunting #spooky

Tags:   Moosup Connecticut United States New England history historic New England Legends legend tripping haunted house home paranormal activity HDR high dynamic range photography creepy spooky legendary ghost 18th century grave graves buried Frank C. Grace Frank Grace Trig Photography Sony A7RIV Sony alpha supernatural activity ournewenglandlegends haunt on1pics unexplained lights sounds apparitions Voluntown Sterling Maud's Grave Maude's Grave Native American woman smallpox Maud Reynolds diphtheria Hell Hollow hidden Cedar Swamp Road unmarked grave Route 49 Rt 49 broken woods forest exploring searching Pachaug State Forest tomb tombstone

N 1 B 1.0K C 1 E Aug 7, 2021 F Aug 22, 2021
  • DESCRIPTION
  • COMMENT
  • O
  • L
  • M

August 7, 2021
Hell Hollow area of the Pachaug State Forest
Moosup, CT

*snap, snap, snap*
small branches breaking underfoot,
entering an ancient wooded land
the trees and foliage shade me the harsh Summer afternoon sun
insects scream at me hungry for some bloody nutrition

searching for someone from the distant possible past
Is she even here and will I even be lucky enough to find her?
the overgrown path splits, demanding I choose a direction
indecisively I pause, which way?
There are no signs pointing me to where I want to go
left? right? just go back? This is new terrain for me
"Just another metaphor for life's journey" I think as I smile to myself

I keep on, trying not to stumble on the uneven forest floor
"You're alone, so be careful" I tell myself
did I choose the right path?
I stop again and second guess myself
yes, I convince myself that something feels "right" about this way

I go deeper into and under the forest's canopy
the woodlands seems to sing an welcoming invitation as the wind gently picks up and whistles through the branches
the Pachaug State Forest now comes to life with sunbeams, moving shadows and sound
way up high branches brush against one another like a bow to taunt violin strings
I swear I hear the song change the symphony to a gloomy C#m drone
soaking it all in I imagine the performance is just for me but I know better

this IS the way
the path starts to slowly incline
fallen branches everywhere
this path is not well maintained but I hold onto what little hope I have
the soothing bubbling sound of a gentle running stream is ahead
As I step across the water, I picture the animals that must quench their thirst here

Continuing, it's gradually more quiet
No doubt about it, it's eerie here and it's affecting me

an enormous tree is up ahead to my right
it is slightly tilted with it's gigantic gnarly trunk fighting to hold roots into the ground
damn, the forest is intensely quiet now
Something about that tree stops me in my tracks
I want to take a photograph of this behemoth but it is not what I'm seeking and I instinctively turn to my left
and there she is

a beacon, no more like a spotlight of sunlight unveils who I came to find,
it is still oddly quiet now as I can't take my gaze off where she is
I can hear my irregular heartbeat pounding from the walk,
It’s defective and shit, I’m also out of shape
a constant reminder of my mortality, how morbidly apropos, I just smile again
maybe it's just because my mind is totally focused on the other task
but all around is dead quiet
it's not tranquil quiet but becoming a deafening silence

shadows and light continue to paint the scene but I can no longer hear the droning forest symphony
there is a distinct heavy and solemn mood that seems to be anchored to this very spot
it is overwhelming and the emotions unexpectedly blanket me

She is right there,

a small standing rock acting as a tiny monument to someone from the possible past
someone who we made into a legend
we say her name was Little Maud Reynolds
Said to have tragically passed around 2 years into her brief life
why, how or when? The are many variations to the legend
no one knows for sure so we creatively fill in the blanks

this is said to be her final resting place but there is an undeniable unrest I feel here
did she really exist or is it just another story passed down

There is no visible name engraved onto the face of the stone but it doesn't matter to those who seek to find the spot

there are candles, coins, and other offerings here
a few jars of odd earthy substances surround the resting place as well as a sharpened pointed stick resembling a handmade weapon standing against the marker
small trails of melted candle wax decorates the face of the tiny barely standing memorial

we come here for a connection with her and the past
with hopes to communicate and bridge an unimaginable divide of "who was" and "who is"

we all desire to know that once we breathe our last breathe,
think our last thought or share a last embrace
that life isn't over,
better yet, WE are not over

speak to us Maud and offer us the reassurance we desperately crave

for a time, my focus is not on the tiny standing stone anymore,
It shifts to the ferocious hunger of wanting to know
How can a hike in the woods with a camera become so existential?

I begrudgingly settle with the uneasy notion that maybe we aren't meant to know or that may never know until it's our time, or if at all
or do we even really want to know?

the old familiar feeling wells up inside me and I lament on the thoughts rushing through my head,
questions that never seem to have an answer

the sound of a branch falling from a tree behind me jerks me back into the present and I remember why I took this journey

*click, click, click, click, click*

the sound of my camera recording the scene disrupts the stillness
to take a small piece of this back home with me, if only in an image

I center myself and get immersed in the legend again and attempt to gather my thoughts

a look at Little Maud Reynolds grave one last time
as I head back down the path that brought me here, I wonder how or even if an image could possibly exude the awe, emotions and atmosphere here as well the convey our longing to know what, if anything, awaits us

#newenglandlegends #maudsgrave #maudesgrave #grave #Connecticut #hellhollowroad #photography #buried #legendtripping #haunting #ghosthunting #spooky

Tags:   Moosup Connecticut United States New England history historic New England Legends legend tripping haunted house home paranormal activity HDR high dynamic range photography creepy spooky legendary ghost 18th century grave graves buried Frank C. Grace Frank Grace Trig Photography Sony A7RIV Sony alpha supernatural activity ournewenglandlegends haunt on1pics unexplained lights sounds apparitions Voluntown Sterling Maud's Grave Maude's Grave Native American woman smallpox Maud Reynolds diphtheria Hell Hollow hidden Cedar Swamp Road unmarked grave Route 49 Rt 49 broken woods forest exploring searching Pachaug State Forest tomb tombstone

N 2 B 1.1K C 0 E Aug 7, 2021 F Aug 22, 2021
  • DESCRIPTION
  • COMMENT
  • O
  • L
  • M

August 7, 2021
Hell Hollow area of the Pachaug State Forest
Moosup, CT

*snap, snap, snap*
small branches breaking underfoot,
entering an ancient wooded land
the trees and foliage shade me the harsh Summer afternoon sun
insects scream at me hungry for some bloody nutrition

searching for someone from the distant possible past
Is she even here and will I even be lucky enough to find her?
the overgrown path splits, demanding I choose a direction
indecisively I pause, which way?
There are no signs pointing me to where I want to go
left? right? just go back? This is new terrain for me
"Just another metaphor for life's journey" I think as I smile to myself

I keep on, trying not to stumble on the uneven forest floor
"You're alone, so be careful" I tell myself
did I choose the right path?
I stop again and second guess myself
yes, I convince myself that something feels "right" about this way

I go deeper into and under the forest's canopy
the woodlands seems to sing an welcoming invitation as the wind gently picks up and whistles through the branches
the Pachaug State Forest now comes to life with sunbeams, moving shadows and sound
way up high branches brush against one another like a bow to taunt violin strings
I swear I hear the song change the symphony to a gloomy C#m drone
soaking it all in I imagine the performance is just for me but I know better

this IS the way
the path starts to slowly incline
fallen branches everywhere
this path is not well maintained but I hold onto what little hope I have
the soothing bubbling sound of a gentle running stream is ahead
As I step across the water, I picture the animals that must quench their thirst here

Continuing, it's gradually more quiet
No doubt about it, it's eerie here and it's affecting me

an enormous tree is up ahead to my right
it is slightly tilted with it's gigantic gnarly trunk fighting to hold roots into the ground
damn, the forest is intensely quiet now
Something about that tree stops me in my tracks
I want to take a photograph of this behemoth but it is not what I'm seeking and I instinctively turn to my left
and there she is

a beacon, no more like a spotlight of sunlight unveils who I came to find,
it is still oddly quiet now as I can't take my gaze off where she is
I can hear my irregular heartbeat pounding from the walk,
It’s defective and shit, I’m also out of shape
a constant reminder of my mortality, how morbidly apropos, I just smile again
maybe it's just because my mind is totally focused on the other task
but all around is dead quiet
it's not tranquil quiet but becoming a deafening silence

shadows and light continue to paint the scene but I can no longer hear the droning forest symphony
there is a distinct heavy and solemn mood that seems to be anchored to this very spot
it is overwhelming and the emotions unexpectedly blanket me

She is right there,

a small standing rock acting as a tiny monument to someone from the possible past
someone who we made into a legend
we say her name was Little Maud Reynolds
Said to have tragically passed around 2 years into her brief life
why, how or when? The are many variations to the legend
no one knows for sure so we creatively fill in the blanks

this is said to be her final resting place but there is an undeniable unrest I feel here
did she really exist or is it just another story passed down

There is no visible name engraved onto the face of the stone but it doesn't matter to those who seek to find the spot

there are candles, coins, and other offerings here
a few jars of odd earthy substances surround the resting place as well as a sharpened pointed stick resembling a handmade weapon standing against the marker
small trails of melted candle wax decorates the face of the tiny barely standing memorial

we come here for a connection with her and the past
with hopes to communicate and bridge an unimaginable divide of "who was" and "who is"

we all desire to know that once we breathe our last breathe,
think our last thought or share a last embrace
that life isn't over,
better yet, WE are not over

speak to us Maud and offer us the reassurance we desperately crave

for a time, my focus is not on the tiny standing stone anymore,
It shifts to the ferocious hunger of wanting to know
How can a hike in the woods with a camera become so existential?

I begrudgingly settle with the uneasy notion that maybe we aren't meant to know or that may never know until it's our time, or if at all
or do we even really want to know?

the old familiar feeling wells up inside me and I lament on the thoughts rushing through my head,
questions that never seem to have an answer

the sound of a branch falling from a tree behind me jerks me back into the present and I remember why I took this journey

*click, click, click, click, click*

the sound of my camera recording the scene disrupts the stillness
to take a small piece of this back home with me, if only in an image

I center myself and get immersed in the legend again and attempt to gather my thoughts

a look at Little Maud Reynolds grave one last time
as I head back down the path that brought me here, I wonder how or even if an image could possibly exude the awe, emotions and atmosphere here as well the convey our longing to know what, if anything, awaits us

#newenglandlegends #maudsgrave #maudesgrave #grave #Connecticut #hellhollowroad #photography #buried #legendtripping #haunting #ghosthunting #spooky

Tags:   Moosup Connecticut United States New England history historic New England Legends legend tripping haunted house home paranormal activity HDR high dynamic range photography creepy spooky legendary ghost 18th century grave graves buried Frank C. Grace Frank Grace Trig Photography Sony A7RIV Sony alpha supernatural activity ournewenglandlegends haunt on1pics unexplained lights sounds apparitions Voluntown Sterling Maud's Grave Maude's Grave Native American woman smallpox Maud Reynolds diphtheria Hell Hollow hidden Cedar Swamp Road unmarked grave Route 49 Rt 49 broken woods forest exploring searching Pachaug State Forest tomb tombstone

N 3 B 1.2K C 0 E Aug 7, 2021 F Aug 22, 2021
  • DESCRIPTION
  • COMMENT
  • O
  • L
  • M

August 7, 2021
Hell Hollow area of the Pachaug State Forest
Moosup, CT

*snap, snap, snap*
small branches breaking underfoot,
entering an ancient wooded land
the trees and foliage shade me the harsh Summer afternoon sun
insects scream at me hungry for some bloody nutrition

searching for someone from the distant possible past
Is she even here and will I even be lucky enough to find her?
the overgrown path splits, demanding I choose a direction
indecisively I pause, which way?
There are no signs pointing me to where I want to go
left? right? just go back? This is new terrain for me
"Just another metaphor for life's journey" I think as I smile to myself

I keep on, trying not to stumble on the uneven forest floor
"You're alone, so be careful" I tell myself
did I choose the right path?
I stop again and second guess myself
yes, I convince myself that something feels "right" about this way

I go deeper into and under the forest's canopy
the woodlands seems to sing an welcoming invitation as the wind gently picks up and whistles through the branches
the Pachaug State Forest now comes to life with sunbeams, moving shadows and sound
way up high branches brush against one another like a bow to taunt violin strings
I swear I hear the song change the symphony to a gloomy C#m drone
soaking it all in I imagine the performance is just for me but I know better

this IS the way
the path starts to slowly incline
fallen branches everywhere
this path is not well maintained but I hold onto what little hope I have
the soothing bubbling sound of a gentle running stream is ahead
As I step across the water, I picture the animals that must quench their thirst here

Continuing, it's gradually more quiet
No doubt about it, it's eerie here and it's affecting me

an enormous tree is up ahead to my right
it is slightly tilted with it's gigantic gnarly trunk fighting to hold roots into the ground
damn, the forest is intensely quiet now
Something about that tree stops me in my tracks
I want to take a photograph of this behemoth but it is not what I'm seeking and I instinctively turn to my left
and there she is

a beacon, no more like a spotlight of sunlight unveils who I came to find,
it is still oddly quiet now as I can't take my gaze off where she is
I can hear my irregular heartbeat pounding from the walk,
It’s defective and shit, I’m also out of shape
a constant reminder of my mortality, how morbidly apropos, I just smile again
maybe it's just because my mind is totally focused on the other task
but all around is dead quiet
it's not tranquil quiet but becoming a deafening silence

shadows and light continue to paint the scene but I can no longer hear the droning forest symphony
there is a distinct heavy and solemn mood that seems to be anchored to this very spot
it is overwhelming and the emotions unexpectedly blanket me

She is right there,

a small standing rock acting as a tiny monument to someone from the possible past
someone who we made into a legend
we say her name was Little Maud Reynolds
Said to have tragically passed around 2 years into her brief life
why, how or when? The are many variations to the legend
no one knows for sure so we creatively fill in the blanks

this is said to be her final resting place but there is an undeniable unrest I feel here
did she really exist or is it just another story passed down

There is no visible name engraved onto the face of the stone but it doesn't matter to those who seek to find the spot

there are candles, coins, and other offerings here
a few jars of odd earthy substances surround the resting place as well as a sharpened pointed stick resembling a handmade weapon standing against the marker
small trails of melted candle wax decorates the face of the tiny barely standing memorial

we come here for a connection with her and the past
with hopes to communicate and bridge an unimaginable divide of "who was" and "who is"

we all desire to know that once we breathe our last breathe,
think our last thought or share a last embrace
that life isn't over,
better yet, WE are not over

speak to us Maud and offer us the reassurance we desperately crave

for a time, my focus is not on the tiny standing stone anymore,
It shifts to the ferocious hunger of wanting to know
How can a hike in the woods with a camera become so existential?

I begrudgingly settle with the uneasy notion that maybe we aren't meant to know or that may never know until it's our time, or if at all
or do we even really want to know?

the old familiar feeling wells up inside me and I lament on the thoughts rushing through my head,
questions that never seem to have an answer

the sound of a branch falling from a tree behind me jerks me back into the present and I remember why I took this journey

*click, click, click, click, click*

the sound of my camera recording the scene disrupts the stillness
to take a small piece of this back home with me, if only in an image

I center myself and get immersed in the legend again and attempt to gather my thoughts

a look at Little Maud Reynolds grave one last time
as I head back down the path that brought me here, I wonder how or even if an image could possibly exude the awe, emotions and atmosphere here as well the convey our longing to know what, if anything, awaits us

#newenglandlegends #maudsgrave #maudesgrave #grave #Connecticut #hellhollowroad #photography #buried #legendtripping #haunting #ghosthunting #spooky

Tags:   Moosup Connecticut United States New England history historic New England Legends legend tripping haunted house home paranormal activity HDR high dynamic range photography creepy spooky legendary ghost 18th century grave graves buried Frank C. Grace Frank Grace Trig Photography Sony A7RIV Sony alpha supernatural activity ournewenglandlegends haunt on1pics unexplained lights sounds apparitions Voluntown Sterling Maud's Grave Maude's Grave Native American woman smallpox Maud Reynolds diphtheria Hell Hollow hidden Cedar Swamp Road unmarked grave Route 49 Rt 49 broken woods forest exploring searching Pachaug State Forest tomb tombstone


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