Yesterday, Thanksgiving, was mild and sunny. My husband and I and our golden collie, Taffy, drove to the little beach nearby our home which becomes my sanctuary and sanity when the chaos of the world starts closing in. The tide was the highest I have seen in ages, and Taffy ran along the shoreline, nipping at the wavelets, barking and capering as large dogs do when they are freely enjoying themselves. Sun...warm and pouring through the leaves of the preserve behind the beach in a patchwork of reds, golds, oranges. A faint fog burning off over the Sound, the sunlight soft and hazy, muted the sharp edges of colour and blended all into a warm watercolour collage. The leaves have only turned this past week from green to what might be expected in Autumn. This year it is so very, very late.

My husband dug up the canna bulbs when we got home. A stalk of feverfew still blossoms, a deep red dianthus sends up a single flower, and some battered orange Japanese lanterns are almost all that is left of the garden now. But the spires of the brilliant pineapple sage, which thrive on cool temperatures and less light, continue to throw scarlet racemes into the air. The Norway maples in the yard are the colour of butterscotch, or a jar of honey held up to the sun. As the afternoon progressed, a soft silver drizzle rained down but the yard appeared to be in sunlight because of the extraordinary brightness of these golden leaves. At my daughter's house on the South shore, where temperatures are milder, I noticed that her purple verbena, pansies and a few marigolds are still blooming. After dinner, the sky had cleared, stars sparkled, Mars hung in the East like a finely cut citrine and the wind blew steadily from the Northwest. Leaves ran before it, chill settled into the night air, and for the first time it felt as if Fall had come to Long Island. Today is bright, crisp; gloves and a warm jacket are a necessity when walking Taffy. Sun continues to pour like honey through the maples, but not the branches are not so full. The leaves are now deep across my yard, and Taffy gambols in them, loving the chilly weather, protected well by her thick coat. She comes alive in the fall when the dropping temperatures more natural to Scottish ancestors - both hers and mine - wake us out of this prolonged and unusual warm-weather torpor.

October 2, 2007
Meredith from central Ohio writes:

August 18, 2007
Sandra from Maryland writes:

Some things noticed in Maryland (where we’re residing now)

1. The early morning COOL. It is different from the spring and early summer COOL. There is a different scent in the air. And more often than not, the skies are either clear, or a light layer of cirrus clouds.

2. As you noted, autumn starts at the soil level, the gradual changing of foliage color and locally the reappearance of fauna. They were always there; just we are seeing them more during daylight hours.

3. Crepe Myrtles are developing seed pods, and most “nut” trees have too.

4. Due to solar angulations (the angles that solar energy “hits” the Earth’s surface), the “color” and clarity of sunlight is changing. Mid to late August the change is JUST becoming noticeable to most people – vary noticeable in September and October.

5. Dew point temperatures are dropping. The “blanket” of Summer humidity begins to lessen towards the end of the month. In the Baltimore Maryland area we get our “relief” typically in mid-August, and in the Washington D.C. area it is a week later.

6. Much less firefly activity, some increase in cricket visibility. Last year’s frogs by now have died off; tadpoles of June are now young frogs, some still have a bit of tadpole tail, but no longer pollywogs.

7. Stone fruits are past prime and apples just starting to come into season. Corn (maize) is prime or starting to go pass prime. Grasses and related (wheats) are nearly ripen or going to seed if it is dry right now. Some areas have started haying.

8. Ohio and in Germany – heavy short term rains OR longer and steady rains possible in equal proportion. While in Maryland and Atlantic Costal areas, there is the greater possibility of hurricanes and tropical storms through early October.

August 13, 2007
Clara from Houston writes:

We have unrepenting heat,sun, and more of the same. The habitual afternoon rains of July (resulting in the semi-habitual after steambath) have dried up, all the plants that can be moved to shade are, everything else is, well, dead.

This year, I have found myself able to 'semi-function' due to my accesptance of these days, in which we really must do nothing-or perish in the heat. I don't expect to think clearly, or rationally, I arise early, and go to bed as soon as possible. In the past, I have fretted over these tendencies-am I depressed, am I sick.....but now-I watch the cats, and follow their 'low' times. Sparce playing and scampering in the evening, less food, more water. No food that requires heat, lots of ice, and placing my large carbon footprint on the planet due to blithe A/C consumption.

The farmers from whom my husband gather produce for the local farmer's market are barren....but we do have green leaves at the bottom of our spring tomato plants, hopefully signaling a fall crop.

I eagerly await Thanksgiving, our 'second summer' when you can turn the stove on, and cook to your heart's content, as long as you do so in cut-offs, tank tops, and long cotton aprons...even as the temp tops 90 degrees.

Global warming??? sounds a little like home to me.