Looking through the New Rectangle of August

A shift in the tides, in the light. The sudden and welcome surprise of the nights drawing in. 8:30pm and it is twilight now. It is during the evenings that the change can be felt the strongest. The days are still hot and humid, grey banks of heat and exhaustion, but when the light begins to fail, somethng begins to stir.
The red of traffic lights in the distance seems stronger, and clearer. Less of the summer haze about them. The night seems to have rediscovered its own sense of mystery again. I feel sudden urges to go on long twilight walks.
Autumn is being born somewhere.
The other evening, in the throes of a moderately bad cold, marked most by an almost intolerable rise in body temperature, I lay on my sofa. The curtans were closed against the night, but, due mostly to the slightly hallucinogenic side effects that colds bring, the outside felt more like autumn, or even winter. I coud feel the differet layers of blackness, as if the street were submerged in water. The air felt suspended and cool. I imagined the light of bedsit windows fallng nto quiet pavements. Geometery shifting.
I think it was as I lay there that, synaesthetically, I felt the shape of the summer start to change. August, through the long and yelow flatlands of July, seemed an upill ascent over a long pane of glass, wading knee-deep through windows. It shifted then, and August seemed instead a long rectangle, looking down onto the homelands of autumn.
Fallig through water, breathing underneath pools.
Monday morning now. Joe came down for the weekend from Poland. Pints in the Basketmakers and vodka at Andy's flat. Ended up at the Hove Place pub last nght with Em. No summer here in these Italianate gardens. Benches and trees, closed in by walls, all safe in this autumn embryo. It began to raina little, thick luxurios drops.
Only August,but summer is beginning to end.