Writing

Autumn

There’s something about that particular light you experience when walking under old trees on a cold, blustery day’s end, with a clear sky overhead and leaves scattering underfoot that summons memories of years past and thoughts of the future.

“To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists “

archived copy

Around the same time

Earlier in writing: 30 albums on Type. Later in writing: Backlog!.

About this piece

First published .