BOSTON—The twigs and acorns crunching pleasurably beneath his boots, Mr. Autumn Man Dennis Clemons, 32, reportedly strolled down Massachusetts Avenue on Wednesday wearing a gray sweater over a plaid collared shirt as he cradled a cup of pumpkin-spiced coffee and relished the crisp October morning.

“Nothing beats autumn in New England,” said His Excellency, the Duke of Fall, who began the day swaddled in a warm flannel blanket, gazing out the window at the golden-hued landscape, as is his custom this time of year. “Everywhere the leaves are changing and the temperature is starting to drop off. You can smell it in the air.”

“Tonight it may even dip into the 30s,” added the cozy autumnal personage, who at several points wrapped both hands around his warm container of coffee and inhaled deeply. “Perfect weather for building a fire.”

Mr. Fall, who sources speculate loves Thanksgiving, butternut squash soup, homecoming parades, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” apple-picking, and haunted hayrides, emerges reliably every year around this time in his traditional uniform, sometimes alternating his iconic sweater with a fleece vest or pullover.

The Autumnal Ambassador is also believed to be an avid consumer of seasonal produce, his home and hearth redolent of roasting Indian corn, gourds, and other root vegetables.

“I’m thinking about taking a trip to Salem with my girlfriend this weekend,” said Mr. Autumn Man, trying to decide whether to wear beige or brown corduroy pants for the excursion with his leather-gloved counterpart, Ms. Autumn Woman. “The variety of colors is incredible once you get out of the city.”

“Between the trees and the forest floor, it’s like a giant mural,” continued the veritable High Priest of the Harvest Season, adding that he would soon have to rake his driveway, an activity for which he will most certainly don a cashmere scarf.

Sources said that in addition to snuggling up on the couch sipping hot apple cider and watching Meet Me In St. Louis on DVD, Mr. Autumn Man will also spend part of the weekend meeting up with his friends, the Autumn Gang, to watch fall sports and eat fall snacks.

“Getting together with the guys for football and wings is kind of like a tradition,” said the walking, talking essence of the Northern Hemisphere’s annual tilt away from the sun. “From pretty much September onwards, no Sunday afternoon feels complete without it.”

“You’ve got to take it all in and enjoy it while you still can, though, because December will be here in the blink of an eye,” he added.

According to reports, Mr. Fall will then put on a down jacket with a fur-trimmed hood, buy a lift ticket at a local ski slope, and start getting short with people at work because the early sunset “affects his mood,” thus signaling the completion of his metamorphosis into Mr. Wintertime Asshole Man.