Three types of people pepper the streets of NYC tonight: the people in shorts and tank-tops who refuse to accept it's fall - so fall, in fact, that the temperature has dipped to the fifties; the people who embrace fall and swish around in scarves, woolen knits, and knee high boots; and then there's the category into which I fall - the people wearing long sleeves and flip flops.

I saw The Brave One with Cade last night. Much of the film, including the part when the protagonist and her fiance are brutally attacked, was shot and set in my neighborhood. Cade and I walked from the authentic Mexican hole-in-the-wall to an Upper West Side theater, talking about the lost summer. "Lost," because it disappeared without the fanfare of heat waves, blackouts, and other such catastrophes. (This is the first summer in a long time that that's happened). "Lost" also because Cade and I spent so much time apart.

Despite my argument that the precocious autumn can be explained as simply as El Nino and La Nina switching positions in the back of the family station wagon, this fall feels like my first, only earlier. I was starting a new job then and feeling overwhelmed, and hey, this seems to be what I do this time of year. My life choices could work as a farmer's almanac: "Gather apples whilst Amanda learns new job protocol."

The thing about fall is that it feels like a state of in-between, a suspension, a precipice. It's not hot, but it's not cold. There's a flirt of what's to come, and flashes of what was. The city's lumbering breaths are cool and sneak into the space between your shirt buttons.

It feels like resting your head against a cool car window and watching the gray weave of road underneath, something I used to do that my dad always corrected. With speed, the asphalt becomes soft as wool. The buildings fuzz over.

It's fall, but the leaves aren't falling. Not yet. No need to turn on the air conditioner or close the windows. No need to stop the street fairs or put the kettle on. It's time for me to keep one thing sharp, but let everything else go into the soft focus between stages.