Sinatra sang poignantly about “Autumn in New York”. Here in the country our autumn song would have different lyrics, a different mood.

The colors have begun transforming the tree lines at the edge of the farm. But it is a tardy harbinger. The first hard frost that came in early October, the ensuing ones that coated the landscape with a white sheen, and the long stretch of cool mornings and afternoons had already signaled us that the warm weather season had ended here in southern Michigan.