TAKING THE SLOW ROUTE TO CHAMONIX
I was told nothing in the whole wide world matches New England’s “Indian Summer”. That special period in autumn when the last rays of warmth wash the rolling mountains of Northeastern United States. That few short weeks when every leaf of every tree turns bright yellow and red just before it falls to the ground in preparation for the long, hard winter to come. The time the whole Appalachian range burns with surreal colors of Scarlet and Orange. Oh, dear. How wrong they were.