We have this autumnal practice here in the south of going to “see color.” Leaf color, that is. It usually involves the car and a day trip to somewhere due north or west–somewhere where there are mountains. I’m guessing this is because, for the most part, the fall color in this particular region usually lasts for around, oh, 30 minutes before the leaves all turn brown and fall to the ground.

Not true this year. Yesterday I had to drive to a neighboring city for a school library conference, and I was stunned by the beauty of the trees lining the highway. It was breathtaking. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought I was looking at an artificial backdrop that someone hand painted. There was just enough balance of reds, oranges, and golds, with the occasional evergreen thrown in. The trees were bold and bright, and they blended perfectly into one another, and against yesterday’s weird half sunny-half gunmetal gray sky, they were as beautiful as any autumn mountain vista I’ve ever seen.

Even though it was the buttcrack of dawn, and even though I was late to my conference, and even though my university adviser and district supervisor told me there was really nothing they could do if my principal decided I had to teach a class, the leaves were beyond gorgeous. It was the best part of my day.

That is, until I went home to this:

And also, this: