Recently I gave color another shot for several days. It’s okay, looks pretty good, there’s nothing wrong with it. But to me something vital is lacking in my color shots and I realize that black and white is my language. (I prefer to call it black and white rather than monochrome or grayscale. Old school I guess).
Why? Let’s say you sat a scientist, maybe a biologist or botanist, down in front of a dead desert ironwood alongside someone like Jim Harrison and asked each to write a short paragraph or poem about it. From the scientist you’d likely get an accurate description. Literal. Scientific. Factual. A scientific fact. But probably pretty dry. From Harrison you’d get a poem. An expression of soul. Of feeling. Of spirit and mystery. To me this is the big difference between color and black and white. Fact vs. feeling.
For me a worthwhile photo points to what Robert Adams called a mystery greater than our failures. Color, at least in my hands, is factual, doesn’t point to that mystery. It doesn’t have that feeling, that soul. It’s too literal. It falls short. Black and white can if done well. That, the doing it well, is the challenge.
desert topographics 
I’ve recently found myself shooting color pretty much exclusively for the last month or so, in a wild turn of events. It’s been an interesting change and I’m getting around to writing about it. I felt the same way about black and white as you’ve expressed here for a long time but now I’m less sure. Anyways, glad to hear your thoughts on it!
That’s one of the things that keeps photography interesting – we all have what works for us, and (hopefully) use it in our own way. Color doesn’t work for me here in the desert. The sun is like a sharp stick in the eye, the way the harsh landscape stands out is like a punch to the gut, and that’s what I try to get across. For me color softens the blow too much. I appreciate your thought my friend.