The brilliant and vibrant autumn colors get me every time. One need not even mention the Colorado autumn traditions in the Rockies, such as the purple Maroon Bells or Georgetown and Guenella Pass, where one can wind one’s way past elegant aspens and look down at valleys aflame with color.
The other day I was simply driving down a random Denver street when the hues of gold, scarlet and orange caught me in their glowing seductive splendor. Luckily I had my camera on me and I began snapping.
The rows of trees lining the neighborhood streets, from green pines intermingled with the wine burgundy leaves peeking from behind a hidden tree, were followed by towering white-trunked bottoms and golden yellow leafed outstretched and downcast arms of weeping willows. Then — burning red petite maple and lacey Japanese maple trees aflame.
Honestly, I was awestruck. I kept stopping my car and taking a few more pictures. One more, one more.
Countless people passed me by or drove by me and locked eyes, with a knowing smile. We conspiratorially share this great big secret of our autumn love.
I know there are some people out there who dread the fall because it is a precursor to winter, a melancholy time of bidding adieu to summer, and ultimately a season that makes us confront the inevitability of change. All those things, so true. But me? Fall is one of my favorite seasons. I love the open windows and fresh breeze, versus the stifling heat outside and the cold blasts of air conditioned air inside. Fall is still warm, but the days are cooler and the nights are chillier.