I feel such sympathy for the people up north (and by "up north" I mean anything above the Florida-Georgia line). I don't think I'd survive in places with eight feet of snow. No wonder my grandmother came to Florida from Missouri in the 1900s.
This painting is what Fall looks like here. We usually get a big November storm, which for us means rain, wind, beach erosion, and the leaves blowing off the plumeria tree. I have no complaints!