For today, I guess I am giving up on the mind-blowing glut of color that is ravenously consuming the green on every hill and roadside and city street in the vicinity of Verona, Wisconsin.  Not because I am not frantic with delight in it – just the opposite, in fact.  My eyes, my field of vision, have so far proved too puny to reckon the scale of autumn’s achievement this year.  Leaves red like they tore your heart out; molten yellow rippling in the breeze; and every shade of fire and ember playing out in between.  My arms just aren’t big enough to embrace it all.

I might have a go again tomorrow, though.

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