Read an Excerpt
It’s evening now and the leaves on the hardwood trees outside my windows are a vibrant red. Actually, their color is more of a rich rust hue than a traditional red. In truth, words and labels mean very little when it comes to describing colors. Words often fail to represent many things. Autumn is more of a state of mind than an actual time. It is a portent of things to come, a poke in the ribs. It is a wake-up call of the inevitable. It’s also stunning and romantic.