As I write this inside a coffee shop, outside it’s partly blue skies and I-could-really-get-used-to-this 57 degrees. Up until last week, we were firmly in the summer’s grasp, with days into the low 90s. The shift has us enjoying 40-50 degree mornings, with days rarely out of the 70s. A nice time of the year in Northwest Ohio.

While the tree colors haven’t arrived, here and there you’ll see bits of trees begin their annual change of clothing. Nothing spectacular, just the obvious signs that cooler weather is among us. And on a recent drive up towards Lake Erie, I passed more than one field scattered with bits of orange:  pumpkins! I hope to get out in the next few weeks to wander some pumpkin fields before they’re picked clean. A pumpkin’s life has two morbid paths:  either they end up grinning from side to side, gutted but well-lit, or cozying up to the likes of Grandma’s pie crust to the delight of pie fans everywhere. Not exactly the stuff pumpkin dreams are made of, but delightful to us mortals who enjoy the annual October rites.