Summer is Usurped, Autumn is Here

The weather keeps shifting, second by second - something sunny and vaguely like summer, then grey skies and something covering the horizon like fog. Thick drops of fat rain. Blue skies. Not summer obviously. Autumn, still somewhere in the future, has got sick of summer's ambiguity, and has wrested an extra three months for itself (perhaps, I imagine it's coup may - or may not be - short lived). There is about the air - and has been since yesterday, despite the sun or the rain or the mist, a certain feeling - almost a note, or a low tone. Something not heard for a long time, certainly not since the 1990s when there were hot summers. It is the sound of the first of autumn days, that low insistent humming, where there is a coldness and a clarity in the sunlight (melancholy orchards, little used lanes disordering itself for the winter). The air is colder in a way that is only noticed toward the end of September.
Summer is usurped.
Autumn is here.