But he is the guy whose wife wrote Frankenstein. And, I think, it proves my point that poets are generally onto autumn's deceptions. I don't know about the monotony part. There is, for example, autumn weather, which can be as deceptive as a campaign commercial. You know this from experience.
Indian summer is an Indian giver.
It giveth and it taketh away. One week it feels like summer. The next, you think winter is here. Then it's summer again. Here in the South particularly, we are likely to start the day in a sweater and finish it in a sweat.