It's early Fall now. Not summer any more. The trees aren't changing yet, but the farmers' markets and grocery stores make the change of season clear. There's apple cider, and a dozen different colors of tomato. Not many pumpkins yet, but there are two growing in my parents' garden, and they're getting orange-- so I know the time is soon.
I love autumn. I love the crispness of the air, and I love the harvest-times.
I spent a fall down in Texas once, and in my English class we discussed in reaction to a story (I don't remember which one) how people don't really have harvest celebrations and a deep connection to the seasons any more. I had to interject with a "speak for yourself."
We may have modern conveniences, but you can't be in New England in the fall and not feel a little bit like the clock has rolled back. In the weeks between the first apple-picking, and Thanksgiving, New England is awake and alive in a way it isn't in any other time of year.