When autumn arrives this morning at 8:43 EDT, I’ll be shaking the moths out of my sweaters and layering on the flannels and devouring fruit pies and Spiced Wafers and swilling pots of coffee and pans of hot cider and quaffing mugs of soup and bowls of chili and inciting leaf battles and soaping windows and watching monster movies and poring over events calendars for library book sales and hurling peanuts at squirrels and cavorting with Bacchus and building a playlist of wistful Brahms, energetic Baroque, and cloudy day Bruckner. From now until Thanksgiving life will be very good indeed. Welcome, Autumn, season of Cockaigne, Dionysian paradise, wonderland of revelry and solitude!