You notice the chill at either end of the day. The dewfall is heavier. You still get hot days here and there but the heat doesn’t start early and linger into the evening as it does in high summer. There is a change in the light. To adequately describe it is far beyond my poetic powers, but in the evening, when the long shadows fall on the hills behind the house, the glow from the sinking sun seems somehow richer and deeper.
I’ve learned to be more gracious toward summer. I genuinely appreciate the uniformly green, freshly trimmed lawns. It’s nice to be able to wake up with the sun at 5:30 and have it already be warm enough to comfortably wear a t-shirt and shorts. It’s even slightly enjoyable when a fifteen-minute thundershower lowers the temperature by twenty degrees. Still, though, the best part of summer is the last few weeks of it, when the mornings are slightly chilly, and the evenings are mild enough to sleep with the windows open. I still love autumn best of all, but I don’t mind patiently waiting for it during this pleasant interregnum.