The big maples have finally turned and the whole world looks like it was designed by French Impressionists.
Every leaf a pure, pale green, green and brilliant yellow, yellow, or yellow edged with red, edged with brown, the trees are flaming and the yards beneath them are gorgeous carpets by Monet or Renoir.
Only a few hours of clear sun a day, this late in the year, but it doesn't matter; these colors, though beautiful in sunshine, are made for subdued light and rainy days.
What a feast for the eyes!
I remember one year ago, looking out our back window, I wrote of these maples and their leaves.
That day I started a new novel, John O'Hara's Appointment in Samarra.
Wonderful book.
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