There are other aspects to the fall season that help to magnify the enjoyment of those Indian Summer days. Looking down the highway, the scenery is dotted with pockets of yellow and red woven into the tans and browns of cornfields being harvested. Fall foliage lights the landscape and makes it a special treat. The greens of summer are pleasing to the eye, but you soon get lulled into the sense of everything being green so that nothing in particular stands out. The autumn leaves are not so easily ignored by the senses.
Every tree is a different shade.
Many of their leaves are scattered on the lawns, still a golden yellow. The older ones have turned brown, but they are piled high at the curbs waiting to be vacuumed by the city trucks or burned to add to the smoky haze and sharp aroma of the fall air. For me, the term Indian Summer was defined by a story that my dad used to share with us kids each year. It was a picture story that ran in the Chicago Tribune magazine. There were two scenes.