End of October in East York.
Sun rays slowly breaking through gray cupolas of off-white clouds lit up domes of secret Tiffany lamps in the trees covering the ceiling of light.
Red maple leafs descend unhurriedly, spiraling down towards the patchy front lawns.
Dark green yew leaves swaddle bungalow walls, crisscrossing still unsuspecting dogwood clusters.
Scraping off the scent of ash trees, poplar fumes and beech tree bark, yellow hues tinge off a webbed, glittering glance towards the colors held captive inside a day spent in East York.