Another summer is probably history; the swelters and flooding rains have stopped, the temperatures have turned cool, jackets emerge from closet estivation. In the car I hear a Toronto radio announcer, introducing Vivaldi’s Autumn concerto, reflect wistfully that this sort of annual pre-fall coolness is a reminder to Southern Ontarians that we live in a Nordic climate. He says Nordic but surely means simply northern. Nordic means Scandinavian. Or perhaps he really does mean Scandinavian?

