Today it was in the air. Not the sound of construction a house over (even though it was), and not the exhaust from a large truck as it passed me on Fullerton (even though that was too). No, I'm talking about fall. And while it's only August and I'm sure summer will return, today fall was here. The wind was brisk, the sky was cloudy, and it seemed moments from raining.

As I went out I ditched my flip flops for solid sneakers, and instead of a t-shirt I put on a sweater and a tweed blazer with the collar up. Rather than pick up the newest Entertainment Weekly at the bookstore I got a Jonathan Franzen novel, and on the way home instead of getting Jamba Juice I stopped and got some tea. And it was then that I realized: Fall is one serious season.

Summer may be great for bright colors, but fall likes earth tones and layers. And summer may giggle and tee-hee but fall belly laughs and slaps it's knee. Fall is summer's older sibling, a little bit wiser and more reserved. Fall wouldn't dream of doing some of the things summer does, like going to the beach or not bringing a jacket along when it goes out. Fall rakes leaves and makes bonfires. Sigh. I'm glad it's here.

(Also, for those of you who are thinking "Where's the funny":

As I was walking out of the bookstore two kids were locking up their bikes. One said to the other, "I sure hope the combination is 1144!")