It’s hard to complain on a day like today. Autumn – what little we get here in Palo Alto – but autumn nonetheless, resplendent. The ginkgos a brilliant yellow-green-red that I remember only from aspen trees, high up in the Rockies, mountainsides of them, calling down winter from the snowy peaks above. And that bite in the air, still defiant against the morning sun, weaker now, but still strong enough to warm our faces as the breath swirls out in vanishing clouds of mist.

A last day to put the top down and go, just go, down backstreets to nowhere in particular, leaves flying in your wake through the dapple shadows of the day under a sky so blue, so blue. A day like today. To wrap up in the knit muffler you brought back from Scotland that one time, letting the ends fly behind as you go. Down the streets – smell of autumn rising in the air, restful, content.

To go, to see old friends, and to sit there, in the sun and feel the warmth on your back, the warmth in your hands, steam also swirling from the coffee nursed slowly in conversation.

Yes, a day like today.