What fools we mortals be. Clicking on the picture’s display properties yields the response: “What’s This?” My question exactly.

Going deeper, a file called “Autumn Properties” reveals only that it’s a five-kilobyte Windows Theme File. When I try to find out what a theme file is, the Windows Help and Support Center suggests, “Check your spelling.”

Well, hell, somebody at Microsoft ought to know. As it turns out, if they do, they’re not telling.

Curiosity becomes yearning, and yearning becomes obsession. Several friends are drawn into my search. I no longer want merely to find Autumn and go there. I now want to go there and look for a little place to live not far from that leaf-covered path. Photo editors, editor editors, fact-checkers, researchers, computer guys and computer dolls—my motley, shifting, devoted crew come to be known as Team Autumn.

Every member of Team Autumn begins as I did, confident that finding the location pictured will be a quick and simple matter. As the months pass, many of my volunteers, rather than admit defeat, resort to the exculpatory “maybe it’s a computer-generated picture” premise and retreat to their real lives.

Queries to Microsoft are redirected to the public-relations firm of Waggener Edstrom. The following e-mail exchange between a member of Team Autumn and a member of the Waggener Edstrom Rapid Response Team is representative:

“Hello, I’m a journalist writing about computer desktop artwork and I have a question—can you tell me the name of the photographer and the location depicted in the wallpaper image that comes with Windows XP entitled Autumn? The exact image is attached. I know this is an unusual request; any help you can give me will be greatly appreciated.”

“I am happy to look into this request. Please give me a chance to connect with colleagues about your inquiry. Will this be for an article, and if so, what is your deadline and how will the information be used?”

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly! Yes, this is for an article. My deadline is July 10. The article is about the ways in which people’s desktop wallpaper effects their work habits. This particular photograph is my personal favorite, and I’m going to write about the ways in which it has inspired me and stimulated my imagination while writing. Finding out who took the picture, and, particularly, where this photograph was taken, will be very important elements of the piece. I will of course acknowledge your assistance on Microsoft’s behalf and will send tear sheets upon publication. Thanks again.”

“Hi. I am following up per your last e-mail and have connected with colleagues concerning your request. Unfortunately, we will not be able to participate in this opportunity. I apologize for the inconvenience. Best regards.”

“Can you tell me why not? Thanks.”

“Hi. Unfortunately, I was not in the decision process for this request and am not able to comment on my colleagues’ reasoning. I apologize for the inconvenience. I would suggest the Web for more information about the images. Best regards.”

I see people in black hoods and robes sitting round a table, bound by blood oath never to divulge the latitude and longitude of Autumn.

Why this wall of silence and secrecy? I’ve never before known a company to resolutely shun good publicity.

The dwindling members of Team Autumn begin making weird comments to me:

“There are horses nearby. You can’t see them, but—there—see that old, falling-down fence here to the right? That’s a horse fence.”

“I think it’s somewhere in Vermont. It feels like Vermont.”