At 6:51 p.m. the last of the summer light turns the field golden, the unmistakable hue that happens as summer begins to fade. The air tonight is cooler, quieter.

As a photographer, I know to expect the light to change. The tone of my photos will turn warmer, and my colors will, like the leaves around me, morph from summer greens to fall’s burnt oranges and sienna browns. To me, September is a prelude of the palette to come, the overture before autumn takes the stage. It’s a time of anticipation as well as a time to pause. This night reminds me of that.