Autumn arrived in the Northern Hemisphere this morning at 9:31 EDT. It is one of my favorite days of the year, when I can breathe a sigh of relief at the passing of summer and the diminishing power of my nemesis, the sun. For me, by February, everything begins to sour, since Spring, for as lovely as she is, is right around the corner.

Of course, things will be a little different this year. I won’t be sipping coffee at outdoor cafes or raiding any book sales or taking any day trips to visit favorite niche museums and attractions. But I will be reading heaps of ghost stories and watching more monster movies and wearing cozy sweaters and hopefully consuming an abundance of pie.

Naturally, I prefer an autumn without COVID, but walks in the woods will remain, as will twilit English symphonies, Brahms, and Charles Ives. Already we’ve been blessed with a week’s worth of crisp mornings, and the nights are clear. The green is slowly differentiating and, here and there, there are flashes of yellow and red.

I’m not totally letting down my guard: Summer, though in decline, will push back, as she does every year. Tomorrow’s high for New Jersey is projected to be 80 degrees. But hopefully she’ll be in the ground for good by Hallowe’en.

In the meantime, the wild kingdom gets down to the business of fattening up on nuts and seed. An apple I leave on the lawn mysteriously vanishes in the night. What imp or malevolent fairy I am sustaining, I do not know. But I hope it’s one of the foxes that’s been helping him or herself to the peanuts I’ve been tossing out for the squirrels (and by extension the jays). It won’t be long before a pumpkin, purchased with the aim of carving, will be gnawed by rodent teeth into a makeshift playhouse.

Yes, Autumn will retain its joys. Nature cares not for COVID, and like my friends, the beasts, I shall have plenty of sustenance in my stores.

Welcome, most glorious season!