The equinox comes a little earlier up north. Here’s the weather report from Vermont.

Well, okay, it doesn’t really come earlier. But it feels like it. There is a moment when things change. The balance tips, the turning coin flips over, and I go looking for my collection of socks again.

It doesn’t take very long; the transition is over in a few days. Like any moving thing that sits upon a fulcrum, there is some wobbling back and forth before it gently falls to one side, and it is to our advantage here in Vermont to enjoy these jumbled warm and cool days of September. But make no mistake, summer is over. It is Fall.

The corn has been shorn to within a foot of its roots and the fields are lined with stubble. Hay rolls are lined up along the fences and the soybeans are turning golden. The possibility of a light frost has home gardeners covering their tomato plants with old tablecloths and replacing their impatiens with mums. Chainsaws can be heard during the daytime now that the weather has cooled. The hardware stores have a new crop of bamboo rakes just in.

Will the color be good this year? We speculated on that point as we drove over two mountain ranges to go camping last week. Some of the higher parts looked a little dried out, but I think our valley village will have as colorful a season as ever. The camping was cold, if you must know. The campsite was high in the mountains above Sharon and very beautiful, especially when the half-moon came out. We roasted super-giant marshmallows, tiny little smokies (and regular big marshmallows and regular hot dogs) in the clear, crisp night, then toasted bagels and rosemary chicken sausages in the misty morning chill. The little cabins each held two bunk beds so we can hardly claim we were roughing it, but we still came home stiff and trailing the scent of campfires. Good enough for me.

Autumn continues to hold new experiences for me, for which I am grateful. I hope I never get the chance to take this glorious season for granted. Happy Fall!