Transitions

The autumn has arrived, and we've all been caught off-guard.

Seemingly a week ago it was the begining of August and we were preparing for the arrivial of best friends and family and the visitation of family on their turf.

A week ago, in mid-September, the landscape was verdant green and warm. Today the sugar maple out front is a quarter brilliant red, and pockets of red and orange line the commute. In the middle of verdant green.

A hurricane approaches, Kyle, the first for Maine since Bob in '91. Oh, do I remember that one, as I was getting ready for college, and there was swimming in Eric Roy's flooded back yard. Locally, we're getting into the autumn cooking season, with a righteous black-bean soup tonight, and apple cider pork and Octoberfest on the horizon. Woodsmoke permeates and if the temps are still in the '70s, they're dropping overnight and will drop soon for the rest of the year.

It's the most wonderful time of the year. Save for the budding leaves of early May, the heat and recreation of high summer and the frigid snow-banked dead calm of winter, of course. Right now it's the most wonderful time of the year.

I'm glad to be here.