The trees here in northern Illinois are beginning to change colors. Most of them are still green, mind you, but a few trees have changed into the most gloriously colored robes including the golden ash trees across the street and a purple one on my running route.
But these red maples stand out on a clear blue-sky day. A nursery sits on a country corner not far from my house, and this group of trees turned red first. These gorgeously pinkish red sirens are clearly flaming from a mile away.
It’s scenes like these that make autumn bearable.
Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing the gorgeous buttocks of the ape or autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.
~ American poet Langston Hughes