In the northern hemisphere, today is the autumnal equinox, when day and night are more or less of equal length. But from now until December, the days will get shorter as we head toward winter. From the Old Farmer’s Almanac here is a lovely quotation, an Irish proverb: Autumn days come quickly, like the running of a hound on the moor.
They certainly do.
In the United States, we also refer to autumn as fall. I asked my husband Clif which word he thought we used most.
“It depends on whether you want to be hoity-toity,” he answered.
This confirmed my suspicions. In Maine, anyway, fall is more commonly used than autumn.
Whatever you call it—fall or autumn—this is one of the most beautiful times in northern New England. The days are warm, the nights are cool, and soup is back again on the menu. And in October comes a blaze of glory as the leaves change from green to red and yellow and orange.
This September has been spectacularly nice in Maine, with sunny days punctuated by enough rain to keep things green and growing. Especially during this time of the pandemic, we feel very fortunate to be able to spend so much time on the patio.
The gardens at our home by the edge of the woods continue their gentle decline toward winter. Still, there are things to notice and enjoy in the yard.
and a wee red mushroom in the front yard.
Not being knowledgable about mushrooms, I’ll leave this one to the wood fairies and sprites that no doubt come out at night.