Lemon house, the used-to-be crowded inn, stopover for passengers crossing Pennsylvania by canal boat.

Long ago, we may have heard an inn-keeper descending the stairs to greet us, but today we were instead greeted by a park ranger.

One of the few early visitors the sun sparkled on the snow. Soon the ice on the walkway would melt. The sound of travellers had long ago faded, but the rays still lit the walls of this house.