Thank you, Ray Bradbury...

For all the magic you sprinkled inside my head. It germinated, took root, and grew into long, craggly branches of fertile things both wonderful and scary. October autumns always feel like a Bradbury novel to me, and to so many of my friends here in Nashville.

"Martin knew it was autumn again, for Dog ran into the house bringing wind and frost and a smell of apples turned to cider under trees. In dark clock-springs of hair, Dog fetched goldenrod, dust of farewell-summer, acornhusk, hair of squirrel, feather of departed robin, sawdust from fresh-cut cordwood, and leaves like charcoals shaken from a blaze of maple trees. Dog jumped. Showers of brittle fern, blackberry vine, marsh-grass sprang over the bed where Martin shouted. No doubt, no doubt of it at all, this incredible beast was October!"

- The Emissary, Ray Bradbury