There’s something about turning on the oven when the weather first turns cold.
“But there is always a November space after the leaves have fallen when she felt it was almost indecent to intrude on the woods…for their glory terrestrial had departed and their glory celestial of spirit and purity
“[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air… Another fall, another turned page: there was something of
“It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.