The Autumnal Equinox slipped in quietly last week, almost as if it didn't want to be noticed. There was no fanfare, no blaring of horns ,no beating of drums. There was, however, a very quiet musical stillness that one could hear if one was very quiet..

The day dawned clear and cool and, as I sipped the first cup of coffee out on the porch while watching the play of sunlight winding its way through the trees, I felt mildly euphoric. Autumn... aah, blessed autumn, here at last.

Things seem different all of a sudden. Even the air tastes different.

A package for Sr..Therese needed to get to the Post Office by mid-morning, so off I drove with the car windows wide open. The air gently brushing my bare arms felt different. It had the soft golden texture of early autumn, and felt deliciously wonderful against my skin. This is the only time of year that it feels quite like this.

Driving home an hour or so later with the sun in a different position, everything looked a little bit different. The leaves were dark green when I drove into town but the shade of green had changed slightly on the way back. There was the slightest suggestion of color in some of the deciduous leaves as if they are contemplating a real live, honest to goodness change in seasons.

It's strange that the green in the leaves is not quite as green as earlier. I don't mean the leaves that are considering adding a bit of yellow or orange or red to themselves. Perhaps it is due, at least in part, to the persistent drought. The leaves simply do not have the energy to stay green.

But there are a few tell tale signs that, despite the summer's lingering grip on the thermometer, autumn has begun to claim some territory of its own.

Outstanding is the red of the poison ivy leaves on the vines that have climbed to the tops of the pine trees across from my driveway. And the dogwoods have begun their early blessing of Fall as their leaves are beginning to turn red. And the red dogwood berries are brilliant and abundant. There is probably some old wives' tale focused around the proliferation of berries this year. Let me know.

Have I mentioned the fields of goldenrod, the curse of those who are sensitive to their pollen? And the brown-eyed Susans?

Tomorrow, I am heading up to the Adirondack Mountains in northern New York State and then, in a day or two, to the Green Mountains in Vermont. Surely Autumn will have found its way to those areas by now.