it's when i first recognized fall. not that it's coming, but that it has come. the sun burned away and lit up the east side and i shivered as i watched.
and fall it is. time again for boots and tights and pumpkin-flavored things, for maple syrup lattes and dusting off that 1946 edition of robert frost, for leaf-stomping and apple-picking and hurrying home to bake with our bounty. the time i've been waiting and waiting and waiting for, and i won't pretend that i was patient.