All Over Albany

A visual ode to autumn

Autumn in New York is a treat.

Maybe it has to do with being born in October, but fall has always been a special season to me. In the span of just a few weeks our environment undergoes profound change, and with it my spirit.

Fall days are inescapably tinged with the expectation of winter. It instills a kind of fear in me, a fear of passing time, urging me to finish the year's forgotten plans. The untaken day trips, the long and intimately boozy nights with friends, the mornings awoken in the wilderness, that last outdoor picnic, the lazy afternoon flânerie.

Yet whether or not I accomplish any of it, year after year I swim happily and languidly through the fall, landing contentedly in winter and ready for the respite that harshest of seasons brings.

Again, I may be biased. Having been born in Pennsylvania and spending a childhood in Michigan before being transplanted to New York, I've never lived anywhere that doesn't have fall. It's in my blood. But in my experience, Upstate New York's fall is something special -- unrivaled due to our state parks, our cities nestled amongst farmland, our hungry appetite.

Inexplicably, I'm drawn to water in the fall. Sure, humid summer days all but require somewhere to take a plunge, that makes sense. Nobody really wants to go swimming in November, yet I'm pulled to walk the Hudson or stand on the shores of any of our dozens of lakes and ponds.

My good friend Sebastien has made it a yearly ritual to take the Sagamore cruise on Lake George at the end of summer, and it's invariably cold and windy. Yet we order frozen drinks and stand at the railing on the upper deck, shivering while watching the low slung sun gently light up the changing colors of the trees.

Fall transforms landmarks. The Livingston Avenue Bridge becomes part of nature's display, the rust-colored trellis complementing the warm, earthy hues of the leaves. Walking under it along the Corning Preserve brings the splendor of fall's Hudson-reflected colors into full view. Washington Park transforms first by changing colors, and then by shedding leaves, opening up the landscape and fully exposing it to the surrounding urbanity.

A drive north to the Adirondacks brings changing season into sharp focus, if you time it just right - fall is all about timing. Hiking up a high peak gives a taste of winter, welcome only because it can be quickly escaped.

Most importantly, fall is the food season. Summer is for grilling; fall is when I hit the kitchen. Ever since I was ten or so, my Thanksgiving job was making the pumpkin pies. Back then it didn't involve much more than opening a few cans, but I never skipped a year and a couple decades later I start from scratch, roasting pumpkins and adding my own special blend of sugar and spice. Maybe in another ten years I'll finally master pie crust.

Fall farmers markets burst with brilliant squashes and root vegetables, apple picking comes into its own including the requisite cider donuts (does anywhere do them as well as upstate New York?), smells of roasting vegetables, chicken, and duck pour out of the oven, and the cooler weather heralds a return to warming whiskey and brandy drinks. If for no other reason, I love fall for truly being the harvest season, from cranberries to rutabaga and everything in between.

This fall, drive one of our many Route 9's and enjoy the show. Take someone's hand and walk around the Washington Park lake. Soak in the entire grand sweep from Thacher Park. Visit the farmers market and cook something for a handful of friends. Have one last patio drink in defiance of the approaching bitter cold. Whatever you do, do it now, because while we wait all summer for fall, fall will not wait for us.

Bennett chronicles his adventures -- autumnal or otherwise -- at his blog, Photo This.