Yesterday, walking in the park in the early evening, I was especially attentive to the various colors. One of the most conspicuous was the flourishing pink of a tree beside the steps near the pond. The blossoms were bright beyond belief, almost to the point where I thought about shading my eyes from them. Just a week ago, they were carefully folded buds, but now they were flashing their showy pink petals for all to see and admire. From the top of the hill overlooking the pond, I noticed the orange colors of the leaves of a maple down by the field, as well as the glowing gold of a tree in the western part of the park with the sunlight shimmering behind it. Nearby, down beside the pond, was a tree whose intense leaves seemed to be a deep red, almost purple. One interesting tree was an enormous oak whose leaves were just starting to unfold. Amid all the extravagant colors of spring, here was a tree that was still modestly dressed. Its small unfurling leaves seemed plain and unpretentious beside the ostentatious reds and golds. It was my favorite, though – a strong but simple tree just being its unassuming self.