No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
—John Donne, The Autumnal
But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.
—Stephen King, Salem’s Lot
And I rose
In rainy autumn
And walked abroad in a shower of all my days…
—Dylan Thomas, Collected Poems
The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. […] The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain.
—Ray Bradbury, Farenheit 451