What is more enchanting than the season of fall in a small New England town, when small children criss-cross each other underneath the leafy prism of colors and geometric gables of brooding clapboard houses? Mix in a whiff of salt-taffy air, a whisp of the Atlantic mist and a harvest moon, and we have true Americana caught as if in an old photograph come to life. There it is, Norman Rockwell on a living canvas.