The woods are getting soft hints, just whispers of various shades of red. The Red Maple trees (Acer rubrum) are in bloom. This happens quietly. It doesn’t get much attention. There is a subtlety as it happens. The flowers, quite small, just enough to only create a hint of the color.

As the flowers fade, a fruit develops. When I was little I called the fruit a helicopter. Magical to a child as they twirl down to the ground. They’re actually called a samara. Whether a helicopter or a samara, they are still magic.

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