Summer is slipping away. Daily temperatures have been in the mid-70s, and soon they will dip into the 60s. A few years ago we allowed one stalk of goldenrod to flourish in our backyard; now it grows everywhere and threatens to take over the place. We have cleared dead lupine stalks from the gardens. Bee balm lingers like a long good-bye. We are already enjoying the first Jersey Macs from our local orchard; soon cider will follow. Apple crisp. Sweaters and long johns and warm socks.

I want to hold Summer's hand a little longer and savor the sun's warmth against my back. A little longer, please, before the first frost creeps in while I sleep and I awaken to Autumn's crystalline hello.