It’s totally irrational of me, I know, and something I have to work on, but every summer I keep my head down, seclude myself, and rail against the sun, heat, and humidity – all the while, a prayer in my heart for the first day of autumn. Blame it on my 32 years in Philadelphia.

But now that I’m out of the kiln, in the open air, with plenty of greenery, I really need to stop that, because I’m essentially wishing away huge swaths of my life. Also, because of the ingrained negativity, I find I have to work extra hard to throw on the air brakes come September, so that I can slow down, finally, and savor every facet of the ever-changing season. Because if I don’t, I’ll wind up sliding right into Christmas. And I certainly don’t want to miss Halloween.

Autumn arrives this afternoon at 3:20 EDT. Join me in pausing to take a breath and appreciating the shifting light, the emerging colors, and the falling leaves. These are harbingers of good things – the pleasures of baked goods, homemade soups, moody skies, and woodland strolls; of carved pumpkins and black-and-white horror movies, used book sales, sweaters, Brahms, and cozy cups of tea.

Soon enough, the obligations of Thanksgiving and “the holidays” will be upon us. For now, savor September and October. It’s a vibrant time, as nature lives in defiance of decay – the grass finds a little extra something in its stores of green, apples swell, and birds and beasts forage, bask, and play.

But it’s also a reflective one, as a gentle melancholy pervades the softening light. Memories grow thick. Nostalgia stirs in fallen leaves. Reminders all that we are mortal, and time is on the wing.

Whoever eats the most pie wins.