No, not that kind of peeper!
The hills are so gloriously, riotously colorful right now that even the most jaded, non-nature loving, blinder-wearing driver can't keep their eyes off of them. While we Northeast Kingdom folk love sharing all that beauty, we love it even more when peepers pull over to soak it all in. And by pull over, we mean consciously, and not in a sensory overloaded daze!
Sure, we're used to it. But even so, this year is turning out to be especially spectacular. The display of color along the ridge on a sunny afternoon, or single crimson tree appearing suddenly out of the early morning valley fog has taken my breath away more than once this fall. Add to that the big bull moose that walked through the yard the other day, and the tang of fresh cider in the air, and you've got Vermont heaven.
But Bonus Baby isn't impressed. She's waiting rather impatiently for her favorite fall ritual - jumping into piles of raked up leaves.
The rustle and crunch of crisp brown clouds punctured by sneakered feet, armfuls of Critter-made storms raining down upon her. The earthy musk of composting foliage rubbed into clothes and hair (with spider sprinkles - shhhhh!). The promise of pumpkins to carve and sweet treats to beg for - that's her idea of heaven. Can't say I'm anxious to accommodate her. Given my druthers, I'd take two more months of exactly how it is right now. But soon enough the trees will perform their slow striptease (or frenzied disrobing depending on wind and rain), the vibrant hues will fade, and the gray winter skies will leave me longing for color.
And she'll be on cloud nine.
Which, I guess, is just as good.