Fall comes quietly to the valley.
It creeps softly over the hills, burnishing the trees in shades of red and gold.
Of course, at 83 degrees, Saturday felt more like mid-August than it did late September. But as we drove north and meandered through orchards, the apples were still crisp and the sun bright.
Once home, we preheated the oven and turned to the apples for comfort food. We opened the windows and ate crisp while sitting on the kitchen floor, savoring the last few days before October arrives and, with it, the cold air.
Picking an apple or two, I think, is the best way to feel this season when its only just beginning.