Returning to this location after an absence of several weeks, I was amazed at the color transformation that had arrived with the fall. The trees were a glory of red, orange and yellow, beautifully framing this exquisite scene of yesteryear. The grist mill seen in the background is still fully functional. Protected within the Babcock State Park, it stands as a reminder of times long gone, when life flowed at the pace of a stream. These days our bread comes from a supermarket shelf; yet every loaf still speaks of a simpler, more humble heritage. Mills like this one once produced the �daily bread� of a nation.