As much as I love autumn, come Labor Day, I begin to twitch. Now, as strange as that seems, it’s true. Even though I love everything about fall—the way the angle of the sun changes mid-August with fall just around the corning turning the grass in the field to seed, and how the tomatoes left on the vine may not ripen and will be this year’s crop of the finest fried green ones—it’s the transition that gets me.