there is nothing wrong with your television set...". That's what flitted through my head driving home from work this afternoon. The Fall colors are there, but already weary and muddy; the haze has erased the mountains, leaving only ghostly imprints of where they once ruled. Leaves are skittering across the road, crisp and dry from drought, not cooling temperatures, and the very air looks baked and burned. Where, may I ask, is Fall? This doesn't even qualify as "Indian Summer"; there's a mean harshness to it...not the soft, gentle warmth of an October Indian Summer day.
Any idea where I might lodge a formal protest?