most beautiful

It's to the point now where I am every day wondering, is today the most beautiful day? Tomorrow will it all fall away in the other direction?  For a week I have been obsessing over the ash trees, trying to decide where the yellow-orange, or is it orange-yellow, or maybe apricot? -- anyway, where that ends and the salmon/dusty-rose/mauve begins.  I can't remember ever noticing them in the crowd so this year I have been particularly bent on solving their color mystery.  It may be too late to figure it out though, as I noticed this afternoon twice as many leaves on the trail than yesterday.  Some trees are naked even, but now it's the maples turn.  Today it seems they've caught fire, limbs dripping flame in sunset. This one arrested me on the drive home drawing me, helpless, upward into its brilliance.