Now October, the air refuses to retreat to coolness, instead wrapping everything in warm dampness that accelerates growth while maples and oaks insist in draining green from their leaves, leaving behind orange and red. We're acutely aware of weather changes this time of year. My appetite changes, looking forward to pumpkin spice beer, apple pies, and the overflow of summer produce that the farm stands heap out on their tables: dark red, ripe tomatoes, yellow squashes, 2nd crop sweet corn, potatoes, pumpkins, string beans. And smooth, hard, crisp apples that snap when you bite them. The smell of the air is pungent, not like the sweetness of July, even though the daytime temperatures are the same. It's a false warmth that will flee at the slightest breath of coolness from the North. A necessary change that kills disease, insects, and sends animals into hibernation for a rest. And we dress warmer, getting security from our sweaters, blankets, heaters, closed doors. But not yet. It's still October and no one wants to surrender to Winter. We want to play and celebrate the harvest. Even with supermarkets bringing in produce 12 months a year. We still know the difference. October, our harvest, is real.