As a Canadian who has lived in Northern California for two decades, I still look for signs of autumn when September rolls around. Crispy leaves to crunch through on the way to school, boots and sweater weather. Twenty years in and I’m still wondering when fall will finally arrive (usually around Christmas).

I tend to seek the familiar signs of autumn every year, nonetheless. And although the signs are more subtle than back home in Ontario, hitting the road in our vanagon eventually delivered something that approximated fall, even with temperatures in the high 80’s.

A roadside apple stand was just the ticket, with bins of apples (and even a varietal of McIntosh from Ontario) …

… and places to sit with the orchard’s own apple cider.

There was warm light and rustic buildings…

… and even though the air didn’t have that crispness I crave, we left with a paper bag of crunchy, juicy apples and I was satisfied.  Mostly.  I think seasonal affective disorder in my case has less to do with the diminishing light, and more to do with endless summer.

But I’m grateful for signs of autumn however they present themselves.

Have an apple.

cheers,
kim

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