"Upstate New York has four seasons: Almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction."
The road crews are finishing up a project in town that's been irritating, inconsistent, and inconvenient. It's 45 degrees (F) this morning. Goldenrod is blooming, geese and starlings are flocking, and yellow-edged leaves have begun appearing on a number of trees. Almost any time I've stepped outside in the last three or four weeks (really, almost since the heatwave broke in late July), I've been reminded of fall--err, almost winter.
No doubt about it, we're on the transition from 'road construction' to 'almost winter.' There's nothing wrong with that; I'm not very good at picking favorites of things like colors or songs or seasons, but fall probably is my favorite. I've always loved it. I just wasn't expecting it so soon, is all.