I almost think the sun is shining--
Here, the rains have started rather gently, not the gale-driven slashing rains that tear the leaves from the trees, but just present, penetrating rain. The maples of all kinds are in their glory: brilliant yellows of broad-leaf maple mostly, with the occasional fiery vine maple tucked underneath the canopy. I want to walk in an eastern wood, where every tree is yellow or flame-reds, where there is not a green leaf in sight, as if trees are not green at all ever, as if they are always gold and... Sign in to see full entry.