NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
This Robert Frost poem always reminds me of the fresh gold of the aspens during that brief moment in spring when the buds become leaves! Some more about the colour of aspens (in the fall).