As raindrops pitter patter on an old tin roof and leaves bow under the deluge that pounds them.
The sky turns grey and shrouds the countryside as the sheep huddle away from the wet that surrounds them. I ask, Summer?
Or is the truth of it, that Summer ended yesterday, or was it the day before or the day before that….
best don your hat and sit in the radiating heat of the fire, reminiscing about Summer fields and the smell of cut grass,
about the iced drinks that filled your merry glass, as you look ahead to Autumn and say farewell to Summer.