For those of you who have lived in New England for a while, you will know that fall is a special time of the year up here. Today marked the beginning of fall in my calendar. While walking down Main St. in Andover after a hearty lunch, it stuck me. It was subtle but distinct; I could smell autumn. I’m not sure how to describe the smell exactly, but perhaps you can evoke it by picturing a pile of freshly fallen maple leaves still wet from a recent rain. The sky, gray but unthreatening, reassuring that the rains had come and gone. Leaves, a few in the street. Trees, still green at the core, but yellow around the edges. An invigorating coldness in the air, not bitter, rather a gentle but clear reminder. Thus came the start of fall in New England, and suddenly the pumpkins at the farm down the road and the giant bags of candy at CVS make a lot more sense.