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.

-- Robert Frost

One of my favorite poets, and one whose poetry came to life as I looked at these trees in progressive stages of defoliation.
Technical details: 11 pictures taken and stacked in PS for Noise reduction