The switch is definitely on … Autumn is about to settle in here like one of those friends some of us are lucky to have, someone who knows us and we’re comfortable with in a quiet way.
The light this time of year is different. If I’d been asleep for months and I awoke now, I’d know what time of year it was, just from the slant of the light and the feel of it … not so brash as a summer sun, but not the mellow gold of full Autumn, come October or so.
Autumn, in case you couldn’t tell, is my favorite time of year. Autumn is the smell of woodsmoke and leaves spending their last breath in a spicy sweet exhalation. It’s pumpkins and corn shocks and the best apples off the tree. It’s cider and hayrides and the crispness of evenings that make for the best sleeping weather of the year. It’s the yellow, gold, red and brown of the trees across the high bridge over the Cuyahoga Valley, wreathed with morning mist.
You can’t make me sorry about Autumn. I have heard people say that the only problem with Autumn is that it leads to Winter. But I like winter, too. Just not as much as Autumn.