The Power Station

The Power Ball

looming in the far distance

the machine knits a

commentary on our time



The coming of autumn heralds a change. The daffodils fade out of the picture to be replaced with the russet siennas of the trees’ lament. There is moisture in the air as the Atlantic breeze kisses our land and the season brings a foretelling of the cold to come. But only a hint, as the warmth of the summer lingers through the fading year.