I am loving the cooler August mornings we’ve got going here. Bright sun. Breezes tinged with autumnal foreboding. Judaism has it right: This is the sweet ending of the old year.

The farmer’s market was exploding with wonderful produce Saturday. This morning, I ate two burgundy and bulbous Heirloom tomatoes I purchaed there, sprinkled with a salt I’m liking that is harvested from the Himalayas.