We’re not yet at peak foliage, at least as measured by colorful memories of great autumns of yore. We seem to be mostly in one of those grace periods when the trees are due, but they need a few days’ forgiveness to get all the green out. When it happens, the masses of trees and bushes and blueberry fields that provide turbulent seas of color certainly are wonderous.
But the older I get, the more I seem to favor individual trees with character in the fall. I seem to be intrigued by huge wild maples that have some mightiness to them, even in periods of grace.
They can be literally awesome when they’re backlit by an intense sun or standing lonely in the midst of a green conifer party.
After writing the above, I decided to look up the origin of the term “grace period.” As you know, it usually is used to mean an amount of time after a due date when late payment may be made without penalty. It turns out that, in Middle English, “grace” meant “God’s favor or help.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on October 12 and 13, 2024.)