I PERFORM a ritual every fall that helps me get ready for cooler temps and the arrival of the new season.

All summer clothes--shorts, flip-flops and swimsuits--are pulled out of the closet and stored in the basement until spring.

Out of the basement come the clothes of winter: wool sweaters, heavy coats, gloves.

While the transition is practical, it also serves a psychological function, getting me mentally ready for the onset of ice and chills.

This year, I haven't even begun to think about the big shift.

If things keep going as they have, I'll be water-skiing in December and sweating at football games into the new year.

I would add cutting grass to that list, but since it hasn't rained since almost the Fourth of July, it's no longer a needed chore.

I'm not smart enough or informed enough to argue the topic of global warming, other than to say the days seem to stay hot a lot longer today than when I was a child.

That was on my mind when I toured the Virginia State Fair last week, on a day so hot I had to seek shade to keep from overheating.

As I cooled it for a moment, my thoughts turned to visits to that venerable fairground when I was in elementary school.

In those memories, I often wore a sturdy coat, or braved cool winds that whipped my then-thick head of hair on the Ferris wheel.

Yes, we had some Indian summer days back then.

But it seemed as if they would arrive for only a short stint and give way once more to daytime temps in the 50s and nights when it dipped into the upper 30s.

Looking at the forecast this year, it's no longer a surprise to see 80s and 90s.

The notion that it's warmer now than 30 or 40 years ago jibes with other memories from my youth.

Like the long stretches of winter in several years when it was cold enough to freeze ice a foot or more thick so we could skate on nearby ponds and marshes.