I love the start of autumn.

I love the way we get swept along by colour, stunned and surprised, as if seeing it for the first time.

I love the way the turning of the colours holds time: not just the knowledge of the winter ahead but the promise first of days remembered, kicking leaves, watching the mist rise from a forest floor, hunting for conkers, taking photograph after photograph of the colour of the trees.

We look at the colour. We see time. Continue reading