Fall arrived in the Bay Area right on schedule, at about 4 o’clock. I looked up and that slanting autumnal sunlight was streaming in through my western-facing window, soon followed by a cool, soothing autumnal breeze. (I really like the word “autumnal”…does it show?)

People say that we don’t have seasons here, but we do—it’s just that they’re subtle and you have to be paying attention to notice them. In Minnesota or Alaska, summer and winter are like black and white; here they’re more like different shades of blue. I like all of our seasons, but fall might be my favorite. As my friend Jim likes to point out, there’s something very special about October in the Bay Area. It’s hard to put your finger on what it is exactly…that light is part of it…the air…big piles of tomatoes everywhere.

Well, this is turning into bad poetry now, so I’d better put a stop to it. All I’m trying to say is, it’s too bad about summer, but there ain’t nothing wrong with fall.