It feels like fall. The evening light over the trees is etheral. Next month is September. The future is here. Long waits bring pleasant results. Success is incremental.

So life has changed. It changes subtly while we sleep. What we understood is now un-understandable. The President becomes richer; we become poorer. Poor people proclaim in the streets that wrong is right and right is wrong. Justice is for sale, or has it always been? We were for sale from time to time.

The Great Crested Flycatcher is steadily at work. He chirps and watches. The Bullfrog Quartet is shopping for sweaters at L.L. Bean. It is getting dark quicker each evening. Summer watches from the bench under the tree. ‘I still have some life in me,’ Summer says. ‘Do not rush me,’ Summer continues. ‘There are yet more swim days at Pounds Hollow, fireflies to catch, hot dogs to eat,’ Summer pleads with a soft voice. ‘ I have toys to play with, songs to sing, campfires to sit around and tell ghost stories and eat s’mores,’ Summer laughs.

‘Some of those things are my forte,’ Autumn replies. ‘I do the campfires and ghost stories,’ Autumn continues. ‘I am buying supplies as we speak, preparing for a spectacular fall,’ Autumn rejoiced with a cup of hot apple cider and an apple fritter.

The big white cat is waiting. He likes the cool breeze.  Big White Cat heard the tiny laughter of mice. As they scamper and poop and scamper some more. ‘Mice are simple creatures,’ White Cat said with a lick of his paw and a purr. ‘Fall will come soon now, and you will be coming into my house where Grandma and my grandson and I live,’ White Cat commented. ‘Of course there is Spot the Dog,’ White Cat demurred. ‘He is a bit silly on a good day,’ White Cat added with a smug grin. ‘I love to look up as if something is above my head and cause Spot to look up and engage in a fit of barking,’ White Cat laughed. ‘Spot is a simple sort with a good heart,’ White Cat observed.

Mr. Sun was setting. ‘It is going to be a cool night on Brooks Pond,’ Bullfrog said. ‘We shall sing of change,’ Bullfrog noted. ‘A new wind is blowing; I feel it in my bones. Things are going to be different,’ Mr. Bullfrog said with a happy face.