If I were an olde English person, I’d write, “Autumn is icumen in, lhude sing cuckoo!” If I were Ezra Pound, I’d write, “Autumn is icumen in, Lhude sing Goddamm!” But since I’m just a small town newspaperman, I’ll simply write “It’s autumn – I think.” Or to paraphrase William Blake who was “stain’d with the blood of the grape,” it feels about time to “Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers” doesn’t it?
More to the point, I can’t go anywhere without wearing a dark blazer and so, sweating out much of spring and summer, I’ve been long in my longing for the crisp breeze and overcast days of fall. Let us reflect on autumn and its balmy majesty for a moment … Done? Good. Now, let’s get the facts. Continue reading “When is Autumn? Like, now, baby.”