The Golden Gate, framed by trees. One thing I love about where I grew up in the hills across the bay from San Francisco is that there are lots of trees in my little hometown.

Also, the Bay Area is famous for its mists and fogs, which is pertinent to a study of how we perceive light and shadow. Haze obscures vision and mutes shadows. San Francisco hides shyly across the bay, and colors are strangely muted.

Light highlights the edges of buildings, glistens on the water, throws the trees and leaves into well-defined points.

We respond visually to the colors and shapes of this earth, we wreath our houses in nature, we make roof tiles from natural components.

Cities beckon us, as does a cozy house, but still we add the colors and shapes of nature.

Nature smooths the rough edges, or the too-straight line.

And nature will begin to reclaim any object we make if it is left alone.

A brand new wooden fence is just a fence, even with artistic flourishes.

But give time and weather, water and sunlight some time, and they will make their presence felt.

And then, the interplay of nature and manmade, the dance of sunlight and shadow, come into their own.

We mimic the shapes of nature.

We use the colors that we have known for eons.