I saw them on the drive Friday. Trees with leaves that are green on top but glint silver when tickled by the wind. Leaves with flip sides that shine like the scales of a fish.

Silver maples thrive in wetlands, I’ve learned; I know them from the mountains of Kentucky. I remember my parents pointing them out to me on those interminable Sunday drives.

Since then I’ve reveled in this botanical knowledge and in the secret beauty these trees possess. Leaves hiding their loveliest feature, revealing it only when the wind blows.

(It’s hard to find a picture of a silver maple with its silver showing.)