Woodsmoke & Rustling Leaves

As a lifelong resident of Western New York, I'm increasingly fascinated with house seasons prepare us for the season to come. A month ago I was still grabbing fistfuls of tomatoes at the market and swearing that I would continue barbecuing until Christmas. But then, one day when the light is low and the leaves and mum's shock you with their brightness, and the furnace kicks in, the mind wanders to a nice pot of chicken and dumplings, or maybe a baked apple, or some cinnamon roasted nuts. I wanted this print to capture that precise moment, the threshold between abundance and hibernation.

The print was suggested by my wife, Amy, who wanted some seasonal art for the walls. I'm not handy at much around the house, so I was happy to oblige.

There's some symbolism in the print. The scene exists only in my mind, inspired by any bungalows I've seen through the years. The brick is a slight not to MCM of which I'm a big fan. The slate steps are for my dad, a tileman, as well as my childhood home with it's big stone sidewalks. The door and the shakes are a memory of our old house in South Buffalo, lost to us during the recession. A beautiful but troubled house, it haunts my dreams (but is in good hands now).

It is, above all, an invitation to all of the goodness of that fall season. Grab. Cup of cider and. Donut, and rest yourself on the steps awhile. Not too long, though.

Winter is approaching.