I used to think spring was my favorite time of year, all violence and promises. But early fall is now the month when I go out in the cool morning and eat round 2 of everbearing raspberries (usually bigger and redder and more than round 1), gather hazelnuts, check the hoophouse for ripe figs, and say “you’re welcome” to the birds eating the high haws and elderberries and the dragonflies taking out mosquitos over the pond.