I know not how it falls on me,
This summer evening, hushed and lone;
Yet the faint wind comes soothingly
With something of an olden tone.

Forgive me if I’ve shunned so long
Your gentle greeting, earth and air!
But sorrow withers even the strong,
And who can fight against despair?
– Emily Bronte

A series that captures both the somber glow of fading light and the first golden bursts of the sun’s daily renewal. This is a series about America as I see it right now in this moment – right now, we are perched on a terrible precipice: is this our slow fade into darkness, or is this the last gasp of darkness before the dawn?