Well, not gears, exactly. What I’m talking about is a shift in seasons.
I live in New England. That’s in the northeastern part of the United States, for those of you who might not know. ‘New England’ is the name we gave the states of Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont, in honor of the English who settled this area in the seventeenth century.
My state, Connecticut, is more ‘New England’ in feel than the others, especially our part of it. Whenever I’m in England, especially heading north, I see the strong resemblance. Our roads are narrow and twisting; we have lots of beautiful stone walls; many towns, counties and rivers bear English place-names.
We’re also famous for our weather. Coldly beautiful winters. Blossom-infused springs. Hot, colorful summers. Absolutely gorgeous autumns. That’s our most famous season and deservedly so. We have lots of forests and woods in New England. During the autumn, our maples, oaks and hickories, all our hardwood trees, put on the most glorious display imaginable.
It’s happening right now. As I write this. I look out the door of my office and see the colors of fall. Flaming reds, brilliant golds, deep purples, hot orange, rich chocolate. Our land is strewn with leaves and there are many more to come because lots of leaves still cling to the trees.
As always, I’m amazed at how quickly summer fled. I knew fall was here—I even had a soft of official reminder because I have a book out right now. The Spanish Prince’s Virgin Bride is an October release for Presents. And next month—still in the autumn—I have a book coming out in the United Kingdom: Seduced by Christmas. 
So, it’s definitely fall—but the best reminder of all is the view outside my office.
I’m happy to be able to share it with you.
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