Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple… – J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. – Charles Dickens, Bleak House

