You know in early autumn where the days can still feel like summer, but the mornings are deep into fall. The ones where the fog covers the ground, not yet burned away by the sun. The ones where the breeze is chilly.You sit on your front porch with a mug with chai in it or perhaps coffee, wrapped in a plaid blanket, just breathing in the crisp air. It seems the coming winter is inescapable, but that’s okay because you like it. You look forward to the cold days, where your breath with fog up the glass and you can draw little pictures. The days of eggnog, gingerbread, gift giving and holiday traffic. And yet you know that the looting gets worse during that time where some are cold and hungry. You realize how lucky you are to have a home, have family to help you and food in your belly. As you stare at the magnificent oak tree, its leaves not quite orange yet, you think. After a while you’ve finished your drink, the mist is lifting, morning turns to afternoon. You turn away, but not before giving the oak one last look and vowing to be someone worthy of a peaceful, perfect autumn morning.