Dear Readers,

Mother Nature flipped the switch the other day telling us it is time to root in the closet for another blanket.

The big screen TV perched on the corner of the old oak chest has found time to fit in football games between the usual evening fare of reruns of “NCIS” and the “The Big Bang Theory.”

In the markets, bright red apples, the ones that look so good but have little taste, are beginning to be replaced by honest Maine Macs.Soon the kitchen will be filled with the intoxicating perfume of hot apple pie.

Summer cottages are being cleaned out. Cars are packed up. Kids are heading back to class.

The aisles in the local market are no longer filled with harried, sunburned strangers dashing around unfamiliar territory seeking paper towels and potato chips.

In Wiscasset, the Route 1 traffic jam is shrinking. The line snaking down the hill from Red’s Eats seems to be a bit shorter.

For merchants working in Midcoast Maine, it means there are just a few more weeks to scratch out a living from visitors. Some say it has been a good summer for business.

One artist admitted this season has been a very good one. “We won’t have to work the night shift at L.L.Bean this winter to make ends meet, like we did last year. Last year was awful,” he said.

Folks like Liz Evans at the East Boothbay General Store are planning to stay open through the winter, much to the delight of her patrons who harbor a secret lust for her welcoming smile and her warm stash of crisp weekend doughnuts.

Real estate agents are smiling once again as they mark long-time listings with “Sold” signs. Maybe, just maybe, the market may have turned the corner.

Unlike the big box stores down the road, the local hardware king Merritt Grover and his band of helpful merry men and women continue to please smiling customers by happily spending five minutes looking for the correct 25-cent washer or 1-cent bolt.

Boats that spent the summer tied to a mooring in harbors and rivers are moving toward marinas where they will be lifted up, trailered away to await the annual visit from the shrink wrap man.

No matter what the calendar says, when a chilly breeze sneaks through the open bedroom window, fall has arrived.