I am known as a person who always chooses black and white for photographs.  That’s because to me, most of the time black and white jumps in and pulls out the soul of a subject.  There is no distraction from color.  It’s just pure form, light, shadow.

But sometimes color is what spills the secrets.  Color can have a deep resonance that vibrates so loudly, it cannot be dismissed.  Like in Autumn.

Autumn is my favorite time of year.  The closer it gets to the Winter Solstice, the happier I am.  I like days as short as possible.  Darkness has always been by friend.

I love the long, long shadows that stretch across my yard at 3:00 in the afternoon instead of at 7:00 at night.  Twilight is actually the time that makes me stop and stare into the corners of my yard.  That’s the time when it feels like the shift is changing, the daytime creatures are going to bed while the nighttime friends are getting ready to take over.  I like that.

I have a tendency to drive hundreds of miles from where I live in order to work.  Which is weird.  The world I have created in my yard is right in front of me.  It’s mystical and magical with all sorts of flowers and arches with vines smothering them.  I grow pumpkins and pomegranates, roses and natives all together in a party in my yard.

When autumn comes around, the party is at its height.  Spring is good.  Spring is actually better than good.  Spring is amazing.  But there’s something about that last show of color that explodes in November and December that stops me in my tracks and I end up staring out my windows all day long just to absorb the color.

It makes me feel alive.