We’re goin’ out where the sand’s turnin’ to gold so put on your stockings baby ’cause the night’s getting cold
And everything dies baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Springsteen, Atlantic City
Colour was the theme of that visit. My previous stay had taken place in a very white world; beautiful, but starkly monochrome. Prior to that, all had been green, green, green. This fall, by contrast, was a symphony of colour that almost overwhelmed the eyes.
I’d never truly known the transformative power of the seasons until then. We had beautiful autumns in Canberra where I grew up but compared to Jersey in the fall, they were frankly a little anemic. Here, the autumn was a wildfire set in the tree tops; the falling leaves like drifting embers.
My attempts to capture the intensity in photographs largely failed. A poor camera hampered my efforts, but even with the best camera available, I doubt my meager skills would have been up to the task. Still, for what it’s worth, here is a selection of images that at least hint at the glory that presented itself to my lens.
If some of these pictures appear a little fixated on the graveyard, it is not my latent goth tendencies coming to the surface, I simply found the local church grounds to be a useful and photogenic backdrop to the shots I was trying to capture.