November

A Christmas tree farm in rural Switzerland, shot in early morning fog before the world has fully decided to begin. Young conifers carpet the dark foreground in perfect rows, and behind them a line of bare deciduous trees emerges from the white with the quiet authority of things that have stood through many winters. The fog has dissolved the sky entirely — there is no horizon, only a gradual brightening from dark earth to pale nothing. This is November in its purest form: stripped, still, and unexpectedly beautiful in its refusal to be anything other than what it is.