It is autumn

The air around us is impregnated with the crispness of the leaves, falling ever so wistfully to the ground, and amber skies still glow down warmly, but with a bit more dew-forward refreshment. The dark marches into the blue with less hesitation, like a blanket sweeping over the daylit sky. And for awhile, we will lament the passing of summer—the eternal sunshine, the warm nights. But soon we all take comfort and cosy with autumn and her bosom of fires in the lounge, warm cider, and cold company seeking warmth of friends. It is autumn, and it is good.