The continuing discoveries of a 21st century artist and naturalist …
The title is taken from “when life is quite through with” by my favorite American poet e. e. cummings.
The seasons get compared to stages of human life with winter often disparaged and avoided. As I try to convey in the pictures below, winter has its own form of beauty. The beauty of bare limbs of only the essentials having shed the pretense of spring’s and summer’s leaves.
Their loveliness isn’t in the color of fall leaves but in the lines of age, the light and shadows of memory, the height of time, and deep roots of experience – thriving through every season of life.