After the first hard frost, if there were still leaves on the trees — the big-leaf maples, my medlar, the quince and others — they turn bright, lemon-yellow. And they seem to rejoice in this last burst of color before the trees begin their hibernation.
Driving along on a day like today, when the sky is gray and dripping silver threads of liquid sunshine…Â the world more than glows, it radiates, it beams, it hugs you with its mantle of light.
In a few more days, with the wind and the rain, the remaining leaves will have rusted to a burnt sienna, and then they will be gone, leaving the silver-bare peeking through the dark green cedars and firs…Â with bits of rosy-brown from willow branches in the riparian zones.
But for now, the medlar brightens the living room, casting warm highlights on all the clothes that need folding…