Barbara Lawlor

Our annual gold parade arrived in the middle of last week, quaked its luminous leaves in the shadows of mountain corridors, strutted its shimmering stuff in meadows and along dirt roads and turned our wet summer greenery into a treasure trove of copper, lemon, brass, and russet shades of autumn finery. With a dark azure sky as a background, the dark striped, white trunks with the frothy autumn flowers marched across the Peak to Peak palette with every intention of sticking around for awhile. But a blast of icy air and a shower of freezing moisture that evolved into our first snow of the winter put a damp blanket on the three-day gloriously gold celebration. Before most trees had a chance to peak, they leached into a lifeless grey-brown, shriveled until their stems let go and one by one they fluttered to the ground, dying before their time. Many people were devastated, having counted on at least one more weekend of reveling in our version of fall color. But it came and it went within the time space of a week. Even the foliage was frozen out of its hue. But this time of year, even without the gold, has its own kind of beauty, if one can open their mind to see it. Subtle shades of umber and sienna glow among the bended grasses. Rose hips dot their thorny branches, scarlet pieces of luscious looking berries; kinnikinnick berries are devoured by bears and used for medicinal purposes; and frost on barren aspen branches is a study in contrast, of soft transient fluff resting on time-blackened, elk-chewed counters. The storm dropped about four inches on Thursday night and soon began its evaporating/melting trick adding to the mud left by the rain. By Sunday, the snow was gone, the sun warmed the earth and Indian Summer blessed mountain residents. The aspens, however, were done for the season, the color bled out into the earth until next fall, when the parade begins again." width="124" height="166" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3873" /> strutted its shimmering stuff in meadows and along dirt roads and turned our wet summer greenery into a treasure trove of copper, lemon, brass, and russet shades of autumn finery.

With a dark azure sky as a background, the dark striped, white trunks with the frothy autumn flowers marched across the Peak to Peak palette with every intention of sticking around for awhile.

But a blast of icy air and a shower of freezing moisture that evolved into our first snow of the winter put a damp blanket on the three-day gloriously gold celebration. Before most trees had a chance to peak, they leached into a lifeless grey-brown, shriveled until their stems let go and one by one they fluttered to the ground, dying before their time.

Many people were devastated, having counted on at least one more weekend of reveling in our version of fall color. But it came and it went within the time space of a week. Even the foliage was frozen out of its hue.

But this time of year, even without the gold, has its own kind of beauty, if one can open their mind to see it. Subtle shades of umber and sienna glow among the bended grasses. Rose hips dot their thorny branches, scarlet pieces of luscious looking berries; kinnikinnick berries are devoured by bears and used for medicinal purposes; and frost on barren aspen branches is a study in contrast, of soft transient fluff resting on time-blackened, elk-chewed counters.

The storm dropped about four inches on Thursday night and soon began its evaporating/melting trick adding to the mud left by the rain. By Sunday, the snow was gone, the sun warmed the earth and Indian Summer blessed mountain residents.

The aspens, however, were done for the season, the color bled out into the earth until next fall, when the parade begins again.