While the east coast is having snow, we're having cold, crisp autumn. Here was my post two years ago on autumn, travel, and coming home.
Here's what I noticed the other morning:
I had forgotten how new-fallen maple leaves look on frosted grass when the sun is just rising. The frost has taken all the color out of the grass. Covered by that furred rime, it is plain silver-grey, like a huge plush carpet. Against that background, the yellow leaves stand out--vivid, precise, and faintly unreal, as though they have not fallen naturally but have been displayed there, spread in a circle round the base of the tree, by a generous giant hand.