In the winter of 1996, before the sculpture trail opened, I took a walk through the forest around Cheekwood to get a feel for the setting for my piece. However, I ran into a problem. I didn't see the woods where the art would be enjoyed. The problem wasn't that the sculpture trail hadn't been built, but that the leaves were missing. The majority of the visitors to the sculpture trail will probably visit in the spring, summer, and fall. The green, lush woodland that I had imagined, and that most of the visitors would see, had been replaced with a winter forest. Though the walk did not give me a picture of a summer Tennessee forest, I loved what I saw. Clear winter sunlight illuminating a landscape pared down to the bare trees offered an alternative perspective on the Tennessee environment: strong sun of the dry winter climate rich shapes and textures. Stripped of their leaves, the trees turned to elegant collections of branches outlined against a blue sky. A subtle palette of grays and browns colored the ridges of bark and the crinkles of dead leaves. As I crunched through the dried leaves on the trail, it became clear to me that the temporal nature of the forest interested me most. A fascinating rhythm of changes occurs there: season to season, year to year. The muted beauty of the winter forest is lost on the casual visitor who comes to see Cheekwood on a day in June. I decided to capture my winter experience for them.