September...the year's last run of Silver Salmon.
Turtlenecks, wool sweaters, and flannel shirts.
Hot chocolate, spiced cider, and especially, Glüwein.
Homemade soups and stews.
Blueberry picking.
Stoking the first fire of the season in the wood stove...and smelling the smoke from the neighbors doing the same.
Foggy breath mornings with mist rising off a lake that's polished mirror perfect...perfect, that is, until my fly line gently lays down on it and a trout roils the surface as it takes the fly.