It’s the color of the leaves falling around you when you’re walking. It’s the crisp, fresh air and the comfortable warmth of a jacket that isn’t too warm. It’s the smell of burning wood in the fireplace, pumpkin pie spices in the kitchen, and the distinct rich sweet scent of earl grey in your mug. It’s open umbrellas and windows.

It’s fall in the city.

My favorite season here in the district. Not too cold, not too hot or wet–it’s just right. I think I fell in love with fall when I first experienced it in 1993.

Previous falls were spent lounging around in shorts and a t-shirt in San Diego, where yes, it’s always high sixties and low seventies, partly sunny, partly cloudy. It’s like the city got stuck changing gears between spring and summer and then the clutch broke.