Somewhere in the middle of every season, there's a moment where I can feel the next one coming on in the air. In winter, it's a night that, despite the cold, ice and snow, there's a warmth in the air that ultimately won't be denied.
Earlier tonight, while driving out to Harleysville to Rita's, I felt the first such moment of the summer: the onset of fall. It was just a moment of chill air on the breeze, and it only lasted a couple seconds, but somehow, in combination with the deep purples and oranges in the western sky, it felt like the advance guard of autumn.
Such moments are always reassuring. Summer may be at its peak, but fall is waiting right behind it.
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