That first burst of cold, autumn air is quite a shocker. It sends me scurrying to the closets and drawers for warm clothing and puts the final end to the memories and joys of bathing suits and sandals.

Where are my gloves, my scarf and woolen pants and long-sleeved flannel shirts? Pack away the polo shirts and cotton goods. It is only October but the memories of past rugged winters start to seep into the consciousness.

My poor tomatoes! They have to be taken off the vine before they freeze. The tangled leaves that looked like a jungle in July are now scraggly and starting to brown around the edges. The cycle is complete. Plant, feed, water and then harvest. Mother Nature wins again!

Baseball takes over. The playoffs and the World Series envelop the media. Football has entered the picture but the rivalries are not fully accentuated yet, and so baseball is again America's game!

"The Giants win the pennant!"

"The Giants win the pennant!"

Russ Hodges' broadcast of Oct. 3, 1951 is played and replayed every October by every sports broadcaster. The hurt that I felt as a 17-year-old Brooklyn Dodger fan is ebbing but it has not quite disappeared completely.

I remember going to the synagogue in the Bronx during the High Holidays and bringing in baseball scores to the hungry worshippers - prayer and baseball together in the minds of the faithful.

For me October is even more special. It is the month for my birthday. Yes, I am a Libra and quite proud of it. I never could quite understand those scales and I am pretty far away from being a balanced human being but who can argue with the astrological signs.

In my home in the Bronx no one made a fuss about birthdays. One was lucky if the date was even acknowledged in my family. However, my wife Lorraine and her sisters turn every birthday into a national holiday. Each child is loaded down with presents, cards and good wishes. It is wonderful!

As my own birthday approaches I am almost ashamed of the fuss and trouble I will be putting people through, and yet it is a good feeling to be recognized.

Yes, my reader, those are my thoughts as the October winds whistle through the trees and chill my ancient bones.

P.S. Congratulations to my lovely and brilliant editor on her marriage. She is now Mrs. Denise Nash. Best wishes!