A soft, warm glow passes through the windows of an old stone building. The light blankets the trunk of a weeping cultivar of American larch (Larix laricinia “Pendula”) whose branches cascade toward the pachysandra carpeting the ground below.
One evening in early autumn I happened upon this scene after having spent some time in the Princeton Art Museum. It struck me as such a startlingly calm scene to be found on campus amid the tense energy of students settling in to their school year. I took a moment to simply enjoy the quiet space, the amber glow of tungsten light emanating from the window and the many clusters of needle-like leaves decorating branches of the larch. The sun was low in the sky and had just reached the point of dimness where it gives way to the approaching night and the glow of artificial light. I remember there was a gentle, cool breeze. Autumn was finally upon us.