Forerunner of an Autumnal Power

Been for s short walk outside in the long, elongated twilights of July, a hangover from the giddiness of midsummer just a month ago.
Breeze is up, bringing voices tumbling along streets from other, unseen street corners. The sky is troubled with clouds - just visible in the quickly fading light - and in the darkness there is something of autumn, and if not of autumn, then the very end of summer, when the seasons shift, slip gears, begin to change. That bit of the year that starts to feel like coming home.
It's not autumn though, it's not the end of summer, it's not the of August. We're too early for that but whatever is out there, whatever has luxuriously deepened those shadows between the spectral light of lamp pools, might be seen as something like a premonition, some forerunner of a sterner power (to quote Emily Bronte) some reminder that autumn is on her way.