This painting is the same basic scene as “Autumn,” (Count Shermetyev's estate is next to my house in Moscow), but at twilight, in a very different season. Now the vista is that of naked trees standing starkly against the winter sky. Yet I know the golden leaves are sleeping there beneath the crusty snow, because I saw them falling. Soon the spring will awaken fresh new greenery, as life is reborn again. But for now, it is too cold to even think about it!