Autumn is where my heart belongs, where it can be tempered by the early snows of winter and bound to the beauty of fallen, dead leaves. The air has a bite and the wind a fierce howl, driving you to the comforts that are so often left by the wayside: the hot cups of coffee, tea, and cider, the warm bowls of oats, and the sublime feeling of being wrapped in a blanket in front of a roaring fire, a book firmly grasped in hand. Yes, this is the season for me, where my soul is content, where I belong. - Unknown