You came for the water. You'll remember the leaves.
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500gsm · 100% cotton · Hahnemühle Photo Rag · Archival pigment inks · 6 × 18 cm · Matte finish.
Autumn series · 1 of 20 different sets.
Catalogue Nº 001 of 100.
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Late October has a slowness that catches up with you on the path. The wood is wet from the night, the leaves have started letting go of the trees and arriving on the trail, and the water you can hear from twenty minutes out is the only thing moving with any kind of urgency. You walk slower than usual. You stop more often. Whatever you brought down here with you, the walk is taking off your shoulders one beech tree at a time.
The Dardagna falls come at the end of a beech path in the Apennines south of Bologna. The water finds its way down over the stones the way it has every autumn since anyone walked here. The leaves settle, stay until the next rain takes them down to the next pool, then stay again. Nobody asks them to hurry. By the time you walk back up, the afternoon has done what it came to do.
A natural fit for The Salt Path by Raynor Winn, A Time of Gifts by Patrick Leigh Fermor, or any book read in the slow weeks before the year turns.
There is a week each year, usually somewhere between mid-October and early November, when you start walking slower without deciding to. The air gets sharp. The light slants. Wet leaves stick to your shoes and you notice the smell of woodsmoke from a chimney you cannot see. The year is changing its mind, and so are you.
