A moment’s digression before I begin: Happy Birthday Bilbo and Frodo! I wonder, on this wet and drizzly first day of autumn if Tolkien deliberately chose the fall equinox for the Baggins’ joint birthday. Perhaps it was a question of age, both hobbits having entered their autumnal years, if you will, before embarking on their adventures. I don’t know. Any suggestions, readers?
Autumn is coming! Look to your rakes, sons of the Northern Hemisphere.
So, yeah, there’s that. Signs of the end of summer are accumulating. Chief among them: College football. Sales of chicken wings begin their annual climb, to a false peak during January bowl games, then ascending once more to the true summit of the Super Bowl in February.
So, that’s it for summer then. The first storm of autumn is rolling in from the Pacific, hammering the trees with wind gusts and dumping the contents of a few medium-size rivers onto Portland.
Perfect reading weather.
OK, it is always perfect reading weather, but humor me. Does reading get more pleasant than being curled on the couch before a fire, a warm mug of tea at your elbow and a book in hand? Rain may lash at the windows and drum on the roof, but when you are absorbed in a book the inclement weather either adds to the atmospherics or passes without notice.