It happens every year at about this time. I noticed the darkness. It is that shoulder season, when the last bits of summer are hanging on in the evening. In the morning, there is a slight tease of a refreshing chill that can’t quite make itself felt.

There will be a day, sooner rather than later, that I will get home in the afternoon. It will be dark, windy, rainy, and the leaves will be tumbling onto the ground. The clock on the summer projects will have run out. Whatever did not get done will have to wait until spring. I will start the first fire since last spring, chop some celery and onion and drop it into a pan of hot butter as the first step of our evening meal. It will be time to settle into “soup season.â€

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