The late-evening light of Fall is powerfully nostalgic for me. I'm currently at home nursing a glass of rye with a huge ice cube, while I monitor emails and place more orders for the week. I've got both the front and back doors open, so I can hear the breeze gently ringing the wind chimes on my neighbor's porch. There's a slight chill in the air—just a hint of Fall making its way through my apartment.
I love it. I'm ready for Autumn, and—like a New Englander transitions from white khaki to heavy wool—I'm ready to transition from white spirits to the heavier browns.
This bottle of Willett is definitely getting me in the mood.