Looking For Autumn in the Tropics

It seems that this year, once again, I won't make it to Vermont or New Hampshire, or even the Carolinas to see the leaves change color before they blanket the ground. There won't be the smell of woodsmoke in the air. And no apple-picking or fresh cider-tasting, either.

Having recently seen the movie "Bright Star" about the poet John Keats, I was a bit melancholy dreaming of  russets and golds and crisp air as I read his lovely poem:

       To Autumn
       Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
       Close bosom friend of the maturing sun
       Click here
      
 But on my drive to work, I noticed a tree which is blooming a rust-colored flower, so I purposed to look for other autumn colors among our South Florida tropicalia.  My forty-five minute drive was pleasant enough, but everywhere I looked I saw green, green, green.

And then, over there, a deep purple-brown -- definitely this color would qualify. I walked over to snap it's photo. I peered low, and underneath was persimmon. There was poppy. And  there was gold.

     ...Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

     Thee sitting careless on a granary floor... 

It just was a matter of taking a closer look. 

Or seeking.

Or wanting to find.

To Autumn

John Keats