I love the last days of summer. These are the best days of summer. Not too hot, not too windy, not too dusty, not too much of anything, really, but a whole lot of something else.
When autumn really does enter, I get a certain giddiness that my husband tells me should be reserved for spring and for spring only.
These last few days of summer are not filled with that same giddiness, nor the drive to be productive, nor do they have a sense of fleetingness. I think that's why they're usually "wasted," and maybe that's why I like them so much. You can waste these days, and it doesn't really cost you much.
There isn't an overwhelming sense of "this could be the last warm day of the year, so get out there and USE it!" There's no feeling of "if you don't rake the leaves today, you'll be scooping them up in the Spring."
This something else is options. And it's freedom from having to choose an option, as well.
Options are good, and optional options might even be better.