Far beyond the stark beauty of the trees that have shed their summer leaves and settled in for the long New England sleep there is a beauty. From the deepest of indigo, into the powdery blue, and beyond that into shades of peach and crimson, there lies a promise on this cloudless morning of warmth and sunshine. There can be no more beautiful time of day than when the sun is rising or setting. The range of colous goes beyond a mere rainbow, and yet that is all it is: a rainbow on steroids.
I wish in the deepest recesses of my heart that I had a command of the language like Leonard Cohen or Hunter S. Thompson. Alas, this little paragraph will have to suffice.