I raked the leaves on our front lawnIt took all afternoon.I started at ‘round half-past oneand said, “I’ll be done soon.” But once I saw how more leaves fellEach time I made a pile,I quickly saw this outdoor choreWas going to take a while. And so I did what my dad saidA winner does to win:I studied that great pile of leaves,And then I jumped right in. – “Raking Leaves”, children’s poem by Shel Silverstein *sigh* Is nothing sacred anymore in our increasingly myopic universe? As hordes of photographers began descending on a small, rural community to capture its vibrant autumnal colours, local residents have been fighting back – and winning. To enter the town of Pomfret, located in the US state of Vermont, is to be instantly struck by its bucolic beauty. From the north, Howe Hill Road winds downhill in a series of gentle curves, each sweep revealing verdant farm fields dotted with sheep, or swaths of forest in which the red and orange autumn leaves cling to boughs. At one home, a tree heavy with apples bends over a meticulously maintained stone wall, its slate top filled with decaying fruit. But come early autumn, more than half of the cars driving through this 900-person town will sport out-of-state license plates, coming to abrupt stops on a road with a 45-mile-per-hour speed limit, blocking one of two lanes. The reason? To take a picture of a farm’s silo against a backdrop of autumn leaves. With a mere handful…