Leaving town to the east, aspen lined both sides of the road. The aspen is a deciduous tree and in autumn, which comes early at that altitude, the leaves turn color before they fall away. The foliage in Aspen that late September was probably a few days past its vivid peak.
But in the afternoon sun, the suspended leaves burned brilliant in the sunlight, glowing saffron and swaying in the breeze like Japanese lanterns. The lustrous foliage transmuted the two-lane road out of town into a golden highway, as numberless slender trunks, bunched together in rooted solidarity, lined the way like pillars of amber. It was Tolkien’s fantasy come to life, Laurelindorenan, Land of the Valley of Singing Gold.
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