There is a particular kind of light at the end of summer.
The sun is already lower in the sky, shadows grow longer, and the warmth of the day begins to soften. In the distance, a slight haze settles over the landscape.
Summer has not gone. But something has changed.
I took this photograph in 2002.
What caught my attention was the scene itself: unexpected, almost a little surreal, and yet completely natural. But it was the light that made the moment.
Nothing here seems arranged. Nothing asks to be noticed. For a brief moment, the ordinary and the unusual simply belong together.
Perhaps that is why some photographs stay with us.
Not because they record something important, but because they preserve something much harder to hold on to: an atmosphere, a feeling, a moment that existed only once.
Summer is still there.
But autumn is already waiting.