The sadness of summer evenings

I am reading at the moment Nothing Like the Sun by my favourite author, a fictionalized account of the life of William Shakespeare. It was THE fictionalized Shakespeare I have been hoping to discover, far superior to the overrated romcom that won Oscars more than a decade ago. But I digress. There are many lines that are brilliant pieces of witticism (well, it is a novel by Anthony Burgess after all), but this particular line struck me: "It was light still, but there was sadness of summer evening in the light." It is how I often find summer evenings, when the sun goes down and it is still, they induce to melancholia.