It won't look like this again for another year. The low light, the long shadows, the early evenings - all are already changing. I will welcome the new season because there is something to appreciate in every part of the year. But I will miss the darkening afternoons, the sense of drawing-in. I will miss the sun streaming into the south-facing living room windows, making it the warmest room in the house. I will miss hooking away in my big, sun-splashed chair. I will miss cooking dinner with a taper candle on the stove top while my children play and squabble around me. It won't be like this in a few months. They'll be outside and I won't be stirring pots of soup and stew, I'll be grilling on the patio. They'll prefer it. They'll run in and out through the kitchen door, their bikes and scooters and toys scattered over the backyard, their voices carrying across the arroyo. But that's later. For now, I'm savoring slippers and afghans, lamplight by five o'clock and small, restless people who stay right where I am.