September And Waiting

September. Indian summer has arrived. The forest has broken out in motley colors, the leaves on the trees have become brittle and are rustling as they do in autumn, but they have not yet frozen - there has been no frost. The sky is gray, a fine autumn is drizzling, if there is a bit of sun, it shines through the clouds, and it is not very warm. It is damp; but thank God for that because, "if the weather is foul in Indian summer, then the autumn will be dry." We are waiting for frost from day to day; we in the country are always waiting for something... (Engelgardt, Letters From the Country 1872-1887)