Almost September

[rejectomorph]

It was warm and clear today, but the day felt brown. Summer is crinkling around the edges, like the leaves of an old book or of an oak tree turning toward autumn. Shorter evenings now, and the creeping darkness fills with insects chirring. The world becomes like the coals of a burned out fire, still radiating heat but emitting only a dim glow. The thin moon already sunk in the forest, night stretches under stars like a cat waking from a nap, ready to stalk its furtive prey.