The brilliant colors of autumn reflect into a secluded lake on the outskirts of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Although the natural patchwork of leaves looming over the water is striking, I find myself entranced by the broken reflection below. Somehow the emulation of the trees, which is partially obscured by the leaves floating on the water, is significantly more memorizing than reality. How is this so? Is it the fact that a reflection produces a slightly richer version of reality? Perhaps that’s part of it, but I’ve always chalked this up to our mind’s eye organically filling the gaps with an elusive mix of imagination, expectation, and curiosity – the very playground of the artist.