One day the tulip magnolia next to my front door is still green – leaves fringed with yellow, spotted with brown here and there, yes, but basically still green, and on waking the next morning I see it still full of leaves as I pick up the paper, though the stoop is littered with yellowing leaves. By afternoon, a rising wind has stripped the upper branches of foliage, leaving just the gray bark of branches and twigs and the furry gray buds that hold next spring’s pink blossoms outlined against the gray sky.