
Autumn Gold
by George Inness
There's a subtle golden light in New England at this time of year that's hard to describe. The leaves are down, the trees are bare, and the few leaves left clinging to the branches have faded to brown. Their fallen brethren cover the ground in a thick layer like a blanket... and everything seems to be crawling into bed under that blanket for the winter.
And still, when the sun is low in the sky there's something subtle and beautiful going on with all the browns in the landscape. Many people in the northeast find this time of year here quite unremarkable, the amazing bright colors of fall are gone, and the snows have yet to arrive, but if you stop and look... let the quiet of the light wash over you early in the morning or at dusk, it's really quite beautiful.
I've been battling the flu and the school system. Not sure which is more frustrating. Well, yes I do... the school, they should know better, but neither battle is relevant to this blog, so I'll spare you the details, but I'm determined to recommit time to my own work, despite these pressures.
Let's start small, shall we? By Friday, I declare, to have four rolls of film souped.






