I was driving over to New Gloucester today to pick up some Anadama Bread and jumbo fresh eggs. I had not driven half a mile down our road when I began to notice how last night’s rain seemed to have intensified the colors in the late maples and oaks. We are past “peak” but the remaining color is starkly contrasted with the new blue sky and bright green fields.

Intervale road has always been a favorite of mine. It’s a farm road with pastures on either side and hardwoods, now mostly bare, lining the boundaries of the fields. A newly paved blacktopped road divides the green with a bright yellow stripe seemingly guiding the way. Colorful maple, oak and beach line the way in ocasional passages of sheer delight.

Many deciduous representatives are bare and gray barked in the sparkling fall sunlight. Rolling hillsides are populated with boulders, trees and idle implements waiting new work orders, possibly in the spring – seemingly afloat in an emerald sea. There’s a stand of bare maple and oak and there is another grove yet holding on to their fall display.

I resist stopping to take more photographs – I have what seems hundreds. How much filed away beauty is enough? Is there ever enough beauty? Everyone with a camera is an artist. I slow to give space to a woman pointing a camera at yet another masterpiece. Beauty is a universal language and all of us have the power of fluency. It’s so easy to practice during a Maine fall season.

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