Nothing feels quite as soothing as the crisp autumn air, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet, the rustling wind as it combs through the trees. Red apples hang heavy on the branches, pumpkins puff and swell. The palette changes, quite subtly, till one day you open the window and realise that the greens have faded to yellows, taken on a tinge of bright orange. As the days get cooler, reds and golds burst forth, a brilliant end to the growing season, one last flamboyant display for the year before snuggling down into the snow for a well-deserved nap.
For pretty autumn leaves, Vermont was an easy choice within close proximity. Along the way, splashes of fiery colour and packets of emerald lined the Interstate, made all the more poetic by a gentle lilting drizzle. Vermont announced itself with quaint farmsteads and leaf-lined pathways, rolling hills covered densely with trees of all hues; wooden fences framing soft green pastures, and showers of yellow leaves edged with orange dancing with every breath of wind.