Fall is Fallin'

I missed this by a week. My Virginia visit in mid-October was too early to see the firey fall colorfest lead by this tree.

I had tidied the brick steps and front sidewalk of my daughter's house, sweeping these same leaves from this same tree. But they were brittle, dry leaves of mousy brown; dirty, dusty, before-the-streetsweeper-came-brown, when I left.

Now they're forest fire orange. Almost electric. A sight my eyes never saw in California, temperature too mild to cause a leafy stir such as this. It was all evergreen palms and pines, mulberry and silver eucalyptus against an ever-blue sky. And now in Florida, the only orange is in the lobster blossoms of the palm shrub in my front yard.

Nothing as massive as this pulsating  blind-your-eyes shade of  ripe tomato to greet you on a brisk morning, cheeks pink with chilled air. Leaves drop and the ground is a  bed of red-hot coals.

Next year I'll visit Virginia in November and gorge myself on the visual  feast of the tangerine, golden blaze of a real Fall.