When I was living with the Marxist architect, I brought home apples one September. "Eat one of these," I urged my then-boyfriend. "They're wonderful. It's autumn!"

"I never before realized that you say 'autumn' rather than 'fall,'" he remarked.

"Well, of course, if you actually eat it, then it will be the Fall," I told him.

He smiled slowly. "I'm glad you said that."

Andrew, it brought a smile. Thanks.