It is always a pleasure to revisit Venice, either in paintings or travels. As always, in my title I am trying to hint to the viewer what I am feeling about this image. Autumn, a time of year when the bloom of summer is fading, has often been used by poets and writers to describe not only a season of the year, but a season of life. So it is with this painting, where we see Venice as an aging city, its decaying buildings mere echoes of its former glory.

With the departure of the throngs of summer visitors and summer greenery, Venice becomes quiet and perhaps forlorn. The water becomes darker and somewhat foreboding, and the fallen leaves floating on the surface remind us that winter (old age) will soon be upon us. Like the last of the leaves on the trees, we cling stubbornly to the hope that this beautiful season will last forever.