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I was always told when I was a kid that the seasons roll by faster and faster the older you get. But the pandemic seems to have had a completely distorted effect on time. These last two years have felt like both a blur and an eternity; seemingly standing still while moving quickly through us all in ways that we haven’t even begun to comprehend. Viruses, rampant consumerism and rapidly corroding capitalism, culture wars, and now the looming threat of nuclear annihilation; all playing havoc with our hopes and psyches, wherever it is that we call home.
The fall afternoon I spent photographing these short-lived ice patterns, I embraced the comfort of nature’s steadfastness and, for a time, lost myself in the various textures and compositions of the changing seasons. For a while, forgetting the folly of man, but ever feeling like the leaf; alone against the inevitable tide of change taking place around me.
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