It’s a glorious wet day in the Sandia Mountains. Modern calendars call this the first day of autumn, but to me it’s the middle of autumn. Fall began in early August, with the first hints of golden leaves in the trees and the smell of roasting chile in the air. Today is the magical day when all is in balance: day and night are of equal length, and the season turns toward the return of longer nights and winter contemplation.
I love fall in New Mexico. The retreat of summer heat and the absence of spring winds makes the climate especially comfortable, and the bounty of the harvest inspires me to bake. Shall it be apple pie, or pumpkin?
