If there is a place along 146 more attractive than Stony Creek, it is Leetes Island. On a Christmas twilight some years back, I slowed to view the shadowy form of a deer crossing between the pasture and woodlands to the north and the house and barn to the south. As I drove on, dusk was brightened with the warm yellow glow of lights in the windows of the houses. I could not help but remember how my mother would drive by on her way home from Guilford with a toot of her horn to let us know she was going to Sanborn’s for milk, a paper, or the like. From time to time, she would also take the bus from Guilford into New Haven for shopping. That evening another bus would drop her off across from the house. I can still recall the fresh cool scent of her coat, tinged with a hint of fumes from the bus.