While driving up the Pioneer Valley in northwestern Massachusetts one spring twilight, I came upon this rain shower curtaining the mountains, The color of the foliage immediately made me think of Robert Frost’s poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay;

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

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