Summer has been officially over for days. As much as I enjoy two months off from work, fall is my favorite season. This probably stems from the fact I always liked school. (The new clothes! The new notebooks and pencils! Turning over a new leaf, ha ha.) Plus, my birthday’s coming up. While it no longer holds quite the excitement it used to, I am grateful for every new year.

Here in Maine, the leaves are indeed turning. And falling. The nights are cold enough to crank the heat up. I’m still stubbornly clinging to capri pants and sandals for work, but pretty soon I’ll have to find matching socks.

What’s your favorite season? Does the time of year play any part in your books? The trilogy I’m working on starts in the late spring/summer of 1820. I’m going to see if I can’t get the last book into the fall and crunch some leaves underfoot!

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. ~Albert Camus