The Lone Tree Ahead

It was a brisk day and he was out walking, going up the road through a tunnel of trees, slanting sunlight on his back, the wind urging him forward, billowing his pants and coat, leaves raining down, skittering and scratching past his feet. At the top of the hill the trees ended suddenly and his vision opened, the wind driving sunlight at the lone tree ahead, green, brown, yellow and red leaves twirling, a giant pinwheel of w h i r l i n g sequins, spangling.