It is September and, just like that, summer slips away.
Something about the angles of sun and shadow shift.
Bees gather gold dust with the urgency of shoppers at a ‘going out of business’ sale, and the once-sturdy sunflower limbs hunch with age, their wrinkles and crevices devoured by ravenous ants.
Fully loaded flowers float among mostly rot and decay, or lingering buds that haven’t given up hope.
It is summer’s last gasp and I revel in the warmth of colors, fading fast as the autumn sun.