It is Autumn where I live, and this morning when I stepped out of the front door, a vast canvas of colour stretched before me. There are two 30-year old trees on my front lawn... a sugar maple and a little-leaf linden... and great swatches of leaves had fallen since yesterday, saturating the ground with orange and yellow. Yet all around the grass remains brightly green, for the real frost has yet to come; in that warm early morning light at 7 am, it seemed even greener than green. The whole arc of the sky was flushed with pink and wispy streaks of white. When I saw all this as I stepped outside, I thought something was wrong with my eyes -- the sky was a perfect match for the tiled paving stones of our terrace, with their ruddy pink. But no, the view was simply the common miracle of an Autumn sunrise, at the start of a marvelous day.