Only the ash trees have changed, fully changed. The photo is the babiest maple who is almost there. The east ash I see out this window this moment, and it is a bristling orangen gold against a lavender sky. I pulled back the curtains as far as they would go, I pulled the blinds up and up, and now I want to take out all the glass to see it better. Why do I love colours with all my heart? I don't know.