Each year, Persephone’s Garden can be seen for a few months before it vanishes into blackness. Sometimes my camera catches it still, at others the camera renders it in the wind’s motion, and occasionally the camera sees the garden through glass containers filled with water waiting for cut flowers. The blackness that makes up part of each image opens to an eternal underworld. It not only threatens; it makes the flowers more brilliantly alive than if seen in front of a ground of vegetation, earth or stone. The darkness brings out the brevity of their fullness. Perhaps those of us who experience harsh winters have a heightened sense of the fullness and transience of northern summers.