As summer begins to fade in other parts of the country, we, folks of the Valley, are elated at the forecast for less-than-one-hundred-degree days ahead. Even as we crank the AC, gulp down water at any chance, the world tells us it is time to wear sweaters, thicker socks, scarves. Time to begin Halloween crafting, or go for a walk in the crisp air to fawn over yellow, orange, and red trees. Time to ingest pumpkin spice in all substances imaginable, especially if it gives you a good excuse to order an extra-large latte or bake a pumpkin cheesecake.

But here, it is still sandal season. It is still iced tea, sun every day, sun screen, sun glasses, reflector in your car so it won’t be a thousand degrees when you get in. Fall leaves? Please. We wish, but we will hardly see a hint of what most call “Autumn” for another few weeks. And that is why we desert folk pretend that it is actually fall, just like the others pretend it is actually hot in the summer.

My husband and I recently returned from a visit to Washington state, and I realized that I had not experienced this season in my hometown for five years. To me, this transition was never about finding a seemingly legitimate reason to spend an unreasonable amount of money on fashionable new boots. It was discovering things to cheer me up when things became mundane as school caught on. Going back at this time of year revealed some of those gentle reminders that every day is different and beautiful, but sometimes to see it, you have to pay attention.