From the latter weeks of October to Christmas-eve… is the period during which happiness is in season, which, in my judgment, enters the room with the tea-tray… – Thomas De Quincey (1785–1859), Confessions of an English Opium-Eater

October is the month for painted leaves…. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. – Henry David Thoreau, “Autumnal Tints”

But in October what a feast to the eye our woods and groves present! The whole body of the air seems enriched by their calm, slow radiance. They are giving back the light they have been absorbing from the sun all summer. – John Burroughs (1837–1921), “The Falling Leaves,” Under the Maples

October sunshine bathed the park with such a melting light that it had the dimmed impressive look of a landscape by an old master. Leaves, one, two at a time, sidled down through the windless air. – Elizabeth Enright, “Apple Seed and Apple Thorn,” 1953