She eases the car to a stop at the hilltop and stares. The road ahead pours amber and rust. Leaves drift down like slow confetti and the air carries a faint, cool scent.Drivers linger. Cyclists slow. Photographers step into the shoulder. The scene arrests—everyday asphalt becomes a stage for light and color, and people respond with quiet wonder.Why do these roads feel intoxicating? Perhaps it is t...More