During the pandemic I have been sheltering in place at The Sea Ranch, a coastal community in Northern California. With an unobstructed panoramic view of sea and sky, it’s the perfect setting to photograph twilight, the time of day I find most captivating.

Twilight not only refers to the soft glowing light in the sky when the sun is below the horizon but also to a period of ambiguity or gradual decline. These dual definitions have merged as I photograph twilight while the pandemic wreaks havoc on our lives.

In this turbulent time, twilight has become a personal refuge, and photographing it a meditative act, a time to be still and to contemplate the effect created by the refraction and scattering of the sun’s rays from the atmosphere. Are these photographs brief flirtations with the sublime, a kind of Rorschach test that evokes memories and stirs emotions, or simply studies of color and light?

In making this series, I’m filled with a longing for things that, like twilight itself, seem so close yet just out of reach. In this liminal space, I see an old world waning and a new one dawning right before it all fades to black.