It's all around me--in the edge of yellow bleeding across the landscape--what was lush green, true green, has begun to fade into the barest shades of gold. The crisp bite in the air at night, the sharp dip from 80 to 60 when the sun sets. I linger beneath my quilt later into the morning, the sunshine taking longer to cross the backyard through my window. The wind has picked up. Occasional flocks of geese briskly pass overhead, intent on making good time to wherever they're going in their perfect V formation. Flies cling to the window screens, escaping into the house thoughout the day to pester us all night. The tips of pumpkin and squash vines are turning brittle and brown. Goldenrod blooms, grasshoppers morph into husks flying through the field in great arcs.
Summer's ending. I feel it in my bones, I see the signs everywhere I look.
(Green Girl exits STAGE LEFT, weeping in dismay.)