Autumn approaches – subtly, but unmistakably.
The burst of colors in a New England fall are unlike anything else. It's as if each tree, understanding it must shed it's proud robe shortly, determines to go out in one final blaze of glory. In my view there is a heroic edge to the reds, oranges, yellows that mark the early days of Fall. A refusal to go gently into that good night. A burning and raving at the close of the season. It helps that the colors of Fall rhyme closely with those of fire and flame, and the dried up the leaves and excess limbs lend themselves perfectly to kicking off blazing bonfires that stave off the coming cold.