One of the first symbols of fall for me is the Canadian Geese heading wherever it is they go when the air cools in Nor Cali. As they move over head, in the V-formation, they drag on the tips of their feathers, fall. This morning I watched four such noisy formations travel across the sky as I took my walk.This is without a doubt my favorite time of year. In our neck of the California, the only leaves to change color are local grapevines and the apricot orchards. But that doesn’t happen until November. It is a beautiful sight to see the acres and hillsides turning yellow and orange right before Thanksgiving. Sadly, the rest of our trees don’t change. Our summers are far too hot and dry to give the moisture leaves need to paint themselves with brilliance. Our trees suddenly just turn brown and drop their shade. It’s rather unceremonious.My roses have given me a last heart felt bloom before I trim them back hard. Although HGTV says here in Cali, we don’t need to trim our roses back, I still do. A habit passed on to me by my great-grandmother, grandmother and mother. I’ve clipped away those last flowers, cleaning up the beds as I ready them for the up coming winter.It’s as if summer suddenly stops and the cool air of the north sweeps over the golden oak dotted hills of our region. It was a hot dirty summer for us, with all the fires. Now they are over, and we wait for rain to turn those tall grasses that fuel flames into a emerald green carpet.As I’ve mentioned in another blog, I’m training for a marathon and my morning walks now include the noise of the geese. I’ll stop and watch them move over the sky, wondering how long it will be before it will turn cold. The mornings are nice now with the promise of a warm comfortable day that will allow me to have my house wide open, without the benefit of air conditioning.  After I do this marathon, my walking will continue, but I won’t be so determined, and can take my camera with me to record what I see.The path I take along a small creek, teams with wild life especially on these late summer mornings. Today, along with the geese, I saw two White Egrets, with the whitest feathers I’ve ever seen. They  look like velvet. A Blue Herring stood tall, as it gently picked its way through the creek, on thin fragile legs. It searched for the last bit of small fish. In a deep pool a turtle sat sunning itself on a rock, as it turned its head up to observe me.  Like the Egrets feathers the air is like velvet, as it wraps itself around the world, bringing with it the promise of children’s laughter at Halloween and the smell of cooking for Thanksgiving, as we move into winter.I look forward to pulling out my comfy worn sweats. There soft from a thousand washings, and may need replacing after this year. I can’t wait to curl up on the couch and listen to the rain as it drums out a rhythmic tune against my patio cover. And how desperately we need rain here in Cali.I usually give up my summer reads, that are light, short and fun this time of year. This is when I move into the heavy thick books that occupy me on those short dark days when the fog fills the scenery with gloom, and cold punches the skin on contact.  The first in the stack is Phillipa Gregory’s, The Other Queen, about Mary, Queen of Scots. Now there’s a heavy dark read, but I can’t help myself, I love history.Even with the promise of winter, I love fall, and what follows, the holidays, the joy in my grandchildren’s eyes as they look at the Christmas tree with wide eyed wonder.Question of the Day: What is your favorite time of year, and does your reading choices change with the seasons?