Last year, we missed autumn because we were in Arizona. My wife and I tried to get used to drinking pumpkin spiced concoctions in one hundred degree heat. We never could quite get used to it. This autumn feels normal again. The frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder’s in the shock. (Thank you, James Whitcomb Riley)
What does all this mean on an autumn Saturday? Only that things change. Life changes continually, and I love it. Now, ask me again in a few months when the snow is falling, the temperature plummets and I start complaining about selling my snow blower!