Really the Americans are delusional (with all due respect) in calling this "fall" when it's so clearly an ascension. A climb into one's own skin, into layers of clothing, into routine and those sparkling mornings.
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
-- Faith Baldwin
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
There is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
-- Percy Bysshe Shelley
Everything is exploding with color here, even though the heat is still scorching. Brinks and I enjoyed our walk immensely. I wouldn't mind a bit if things went on like this forever -- blue skies, puffy clouds, golden leaves, and warmth. It's perfect.