As the final days of August approach, I notice the coolness begins to settle in earlier in the evening and the breezes rustle the leaves in the trees a little differently. Bees are happily sipping nectar from the spirea bushes while bird ‘V’s fly in a southerly direction above. Daisies are looking less than stellar with their desiccated heads and the shriveled day lilies droop atop their tanning stalks.
Soon, leaves will slowly turn hues of brown, russet and gold while shriveling up and falling to the ground. Heavy sweaters will once again emerge from their slumber in the closet to fill daily laundry baskets. Pumpkin lattes and ales will become the drink of choice among many. Christmas music will fill our ears while we shop for Halloween costumes.
This is the downward spiral of the death of summer.