This week marks the start of astronomical autumn. Even though it was a glorious summer-like weekend, everywhere there are signs fall is arriving.

An enormous mushroom erupted from the clay at the edge one of the trails on the south end of Willapa Bay, hinting at the mycological miracles taking place underground all around us. Our soil is alive — fungi are a diverse subsurface forest. The multitude of mushrooms we encounter are that forest’s fruit.

Contrary to popular opinion, most mushrooms aren’t poisonous. But that doesn’t mean they’re all good for us to eat. It’s always best to accompany an experienced local harvester while learning. And don’t be greedy: Just because you encounter a patch of new, worm-free king boletes doesn’t mean you should scoop them all up like gold nuggets. Leave some for other foragers, including the worms and wildlife that also find them delicious.

It’s common to have mixed feelings about the turn of the seasons. We treasure sunny days on this storm-tossed coast. As I’ve often observed, when early white pioneers referred to this as the Weather Beach, it emphatically wasn’t because it is blessed with good weather. But the days and nights of fall on the Northwest coast have a crisp taste; they are almost literally seasoned with the spice of storms just now forming in the Pacific Ocean’s restless dreams.

Also welcome is the falling of the leaves — and not just because part of my view of the Columbia and the Oregon Coast Range emerges from behind my neighbors’ neglected trees. By the time we get to mid-September, alder leaves exude a tangible feeling of exhaustion, their curled brown husks littering the ground like beggers’ rags. In their individual deaths each leaf delivers a promise of renewal, a cycle fulfilled. It is good to note their unsung achievement.

Just as I’ll delight in the first new green shoots of early spring, I’ll also welcome the arrival of a swelling tide of visitors who will be seeing all our famous sights with fresh eyes. Their appreciation inevitably renews my own sense of gratitude for being here. But I gotta say: Fewer racing bicyclists on Discovery Trail for a few months is a welcome bonus. As I walk my pup from home down to Beards Hollow, we feel like peasants who have blundered into a medieval joust. “On your left!” they shout from 20 feet behind as I lunge to drag Leif out of the path of destruction.

It turned out to be a perfect weekend for Northwest Garlic Festival; we’ll have photos. A collaboration between Willapa National Wildlife Refuge and the University of Washington Art Department will take a star turn on front page. We expect a significant story about challenges of local police staffing. Fall sports, elk hunting, Ilwaco’s community forest and much more is in the pipeline.

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