It started last night. Wind came up. Cold front blew in. Mercury dropped to 46. Today, it's not supposed to rise above 64. That means autumn has arrived. Not by the calendar, of course, but by the thermometer most definitely. Now begins my favorite time of year. Cold nights and crisp days. And that certain feel the air gets, so clear, so clean. Leaves have already begun turning around here. Soon, all of Massachusetts will explode in a riot of color. Weekends, I'll be raking leaves and carting them off to the brush pile. Soon folks will be firing up their wood stoves and fireplaces. We're building a fire pit out back this year. Gonna spend a few 
evenings sipping hot cocoa around the fire while the night descends around us. Halloween is just over the horizon, that festive celebration of the morbid within us all. After that comes Thanksgiving, the great American feast, when all diets are officially thrown out for the next six weeks. This is the time for soft, warm clothes - corduroy pants, wool and flannel shirts, sweaters and fleeces. This is the time I love being outside. I pull on my warmest sweater and sit out inf the yard watching the day wind its way down into night, enjoy the way the sinking sun sets the gold and red leaves on fire, while the blue shadows lengthen out. Our squirrels and chipmunks are madly stockpiling their food for the long winter months ahead, but I'm far too content to rush around like them. I'll sit, and watch, and ponder the nature of the universe, plan for the future, remember the past. Soon enough, old man Winter will be here, and I'll be shovelling snow and scraping windshields and wondering why I don't move someplace warmer. Autumn reminds me why. The trees remind me why. The geese and the ducks, winging their way southward, remind me why. Autumn makes winter worth enduring.
evenings sipping hot cocoa around the fire while the night descends around us. Halloween is just over the horizon, that festive celebration of the morbid within us all. After that comes Thanksgiving, the great American feast, when all diets are officially thrown out for the next six weeks. This is the time for soft, warm clothes - corduroy pants, wool and flannel shirts, sweaters and fleeces. This is the time I love being outside. I pull on my warmest sweater and sit out inf the yard watching the day wind its way down into night, enjoy the way the sinking sun sets the gold and red leaves on fire, while the blue shadows lengthen out. Our squirrels and chipmunks are madly stockpiling their food for the long winter months ahead, but I'm far too content to rush around like them. I'll sit, and watch, and ponder the nature of the universe, plan for the future, remember the past. Soon enough, old man Winter will be here, and I'll be shovelling snow and scraping windshields and wondering why I don't move someplace warmer. Autumn reminds me why. The trees remind me why. The geese and the ducks, winging their way southward, remind me why. Autumn makes winter worth enduring.
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