Wait -- we just got here

Maybe it's because I got my season's ski pass in the mail on Friday, or perhaps that I cleaned out the hall closet and found my sweet brown leather gloves.

Whatever the reason I am ready for the three weeks of brilliance that is the autumn in Boston -- an ephemeral window where the leaves color the city in brilliant orange and the cold morning air stings your chest but burns off in time for lunch in the Public Gardens.

If spring is when young men's thoughts turn lightly to thoughts of love, fall is when they turn indelicately to football, the baseball playoffs, and the sweet nectar of the season, Sam Octoberfest.

But whither summer? It just got here, really. What happened to all the promised golf outings, the BBQs, the Tuesday night baseball games with friends?

So be it. I'll gladly trade what might've been then for what might be in the future of the fall -- even if I know the end game is another six months of winter.