After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth . . . The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her . . . In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.
Elizabeth George Speare