In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
- Percy Bysshe Shelley
Having serious fall-withdrawal, I was happy to head to Tennessee for a long weekend with friends at our alma mater.
While Southern California offers faint whispers of autumn, in the hills of the South, fall sings like a soprano: crisply, profoundly, robustly. Nearly every tree changes its colors. Leaves crunch beneath foot with each and every step. Cool mornings and sunny days prominently mark the transition to bleak winter.