People travel from far and wide to view the annual spectacle of peak leaf, giving rise to the term “leaf peeper,” usually used in the plural, as in, “Leaf peepers are causing traffic accidents by not looking where they’re going.” It is generally assumed that leaf peepers are not from here. In actual practice, though, I would say that anyone can be distracted by the vast panorama of scenic beauty all around us during peak leaf.

Some years, however — and you will hear all manner of reasons for this phenomenon, folkloric, scientific and sort-of-scientific — leaf season is sadly lacking in drama. The colors are simply not up to snuff. Rather than the deep crimsons, flaming yellows and nearly fluorescent scarlets of our most spectacular peak leaf seasons, we see maple leaves crisping up, turning brown and skittering away, while any leaves that do turn color look muted and dull.

So, yes, as I mentioned, I can’t help but worry every year as I look forward to peak leaf, and every year I take this anxiety as a prime example of the uselessness of ruminating over situations over which I have absolutely no control.

Before she moved back East, my daughter, Molly, who was teaching school in California, where they have no proper autumn leaf season, asked me to send her colored leaves to show the students in her classroom. All of those years when Molly was forced to slump down in her seat willing herself invisible while her mom, having pulled the car to the side of the road, was tromping through the underbrush procuring various forms of flora — elderberries, wildflowers, pinecones, acorns, you name it — had at least this payoff. For a time my foraging proclivities finally came in handy.

I don’t blame teenage Molly for not wanting to be seen with her batty mom as she ransacked the roadside vegetation, perhaps at times illegally. Mothers are embarrassing enough at the best of times; and in olden days I might have been branded as a witch out collecting herbs for potions.

There is no set date for peak leaf. It varies year to year, always arriving in Saranac Lake and Lake Placid before it hits Keene. If you, like me, tend to worry about things you can’t change, like peak leaf, set your mind to rest on this score. The good news is that we’ve finally had rain, and I predict a classic, picture-postcard-perfect leaf season this fall. I suggest you visit the Keene landfill transfer station, world’s most scenic dump, for 360-degree mountain views.

Many would-be leaf peepers visit the Adirondacks over Columbus Day. I say “would-be leaf peepers” because unfortunately by the middle of October peak leaf has usually been over and done with for some time. The colors are still very nice, in a less gaudy, calm, muted, toned-down, lackluster way. In fact, there are no doubt discriminating individuals whose delicate sensibilities cause them to prefer this pleasing post-peak-leaf, earth-tone palette as more tasteful and refined than some garish display.

Then, pretty soon we will have a big wind and rain storm that strips the trees bare of leaves, and Halloween will come, and let’s not think about winter right now, although I know some people love it.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine whose name I won’t mention for fear of reprisals against her, has told me about a neighbor of hers who somehow got ahold of one of those big electric road signs, which he uses to display obnoxious and hateful political messages. This really gets her goat, although her husband told me that she has to walk down her driveway and some distance up the street in order to read the neighbor’s message of the day. Still.

“I have two pet rocks,” my friend told me. “One has ‘PEACE’ painted on it, and the other one says ‘LOVE.’ Pretty soon I’m going to throw those rocks right through his picture window.”

These are difficult times. Let us all hope for the best.

Have a good week.

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(Martha Allen, of Keene Valley, has been writing for the News since 1996.)