it has become cooler in the days now; the morning chill leaves a razor thin layer of frost on the grass, only to melt and become dewy as soon as the sun casts its rays on the backyard. Overnight, the house becomes naturally air conditioned if we leave the windows open, and lately the coolness has been such that it foreshadows having to turn the furnace on first thing, even before the morning's nature calls and first sips of hot, steamy coffee. The leaves on the maple trees are the first to succumb to the near zero temperatures of late night. Already their foliage is sporting intermittent hues of red, tan, and yellow, and hinting of the vibrant canvass that Mother always provides for us this time of year in what forests remain.

Right around mid morning, when the chill is replaced with a comfortable, refreshing, non-oppressive warmth that will sustain itself until the sun again dips into the horizon, I hear the excited yells and laughter of elementary students who have just returned to their playground at the school on the other side of the river. It is recess, and while reacquainting themselves with academia, paling around with old friends, and perhaps making new ones, they hastily down a snack with the least amount of interruption to games of tag, marbles, and swinging themselves into outer space. They know that all too soon, if they venture out at all, it will be to trudge in waist high snow out of which forts will be designed and constructed, and snowmen given birth to stand guard.

Already The Goddess has hung several bundles of wildflowers, basil, and dill in the kitchen to dry. There are still new blossoms in the garden every morning, especially from the cosmos, whose mid-season transplant retarded their development for a week or so. Other plants are starting to brown, signaling the beginning of the end of our first planting venture. It was well worth the effort, for the pungent scent of drying basil that permeates my nose every time I enter the kitchen conjures images of all the soups, stews, and sauces the herb will enhance during our winter feasts.

Vegetable stands throughout the city are bursting with fresh corn, string beans, cabbage, squash, new potatoes, and a plethora of others, as the harvest gets underway full swing. We make room in the cupboards and freezer, knowing the joy of sinking our teeth into a cob of peaches and cream, biting into a green string bean dripping with fresh butter, stuffing our mouth with baked potato and sour cream, all followed by a pumpkin pie just out of the oven.

And we cannot forget the apples and the blueberries, makers of hedonists for sure.

The equinox approaches. I am starting to feel alive and rejuvenated in anticipation of my favorite season, when the air is pleasant, the moon is orange, and nature's palette is over full.

Welcome, Autumn. I've missed you. Pull up a chair and stay as long as you can.

Be Well