If the sudden onset of autumn is accompanied by persistent rain, then this year will bring no overlap between the browns of late summer and the brighter colors of fall. Right now some of the oaks are showing patches of leaves the color of old newsprint, and the fields are mostly the color of lightly toasted bread. A few cold nights would bring some bits of gold and yellow and red here and there, but if there is rain then the fields will turn green again before the other colors can appear. That situation always makes for an odd looking fall.
I intend to spend this evening outdoors, watching the day fade. The late summer haze should keep the light soft and the distances vague, and the sunset is less likely to be fiery than to be the faded color of long-dead flowers pressed between pages of an old lady's diary. There's a sachet of dust in the air these days, and at moments the whole landscape seems no more than a mote settling through late sunbeams.