like flipping a switch
The seasons, we're told, are an artificial construct, or at best an average of what we can expect at a particular moment in the year. Snow doesn't automatically begin falling on December twenty-first, for example. Out of the infinite variety of meteorological randomness, though, things like that may come to happen now and again: as they have, it seems, this year.
Two days ago it was summer, and the air was warm and humid and summer-y. Yesterday it became fall, and obligingly the weather turned cool and brisk overnight. What more could you ask for! Today there's even a little overcast, and all together it just makes me want to go out and drink cider and play football. I'd add 'rake leaves' to that as well, but I'm afraid that with this lawn I'm not entirely looking forward to that this year.
Also: thank you to Eric for cracking the mystery of the copy-protected wedding photos. Now any delay in posting a few of them for your perusal here is due only to our own lack of diligence.