Today is the first day that there is a distinct hint of Fall in the air. Although the leaves haven't begun to change, the skies are crisp and clear, and the breeze has just that touch of coolness that indicates that my favorite season is finally on the way.
In honor of this, I point you to what many folks think is the finest poem ever written in English: To Autumn, by John Keats.
Full disclosure, I've always found Ode to a Nightengale much more interesting.
NP: "Lover's Town Revisited" - Billy Bragg