It's the first chilly wind and smell of wood burning fire.
It's fresh and baked, pumpkin and spiced, snug, solemn and melancholy.
It's time to remember the long days of summer
and things never meant to be.
It's wisdom and separation and sorrow.
It's sinful and scarlet, lustrous gold, wrecked vermilion and fiery orange.
It's cider and tea, wool scarfs and hiking boots.
And it's very, very welcome.