Tis one of those nights, we all have them when the body is tired yet the brain won't shut down. No music plays, no traffic, not even the train has passed thru in hours. The only sound is the gentle song from crickets singing their night serenade from the garden. Even the froggies sleep this night. No squeaks, which they make as they jump into The Pond, (I call it froggie language for "cannonballllll!"); no fidgeting with the composter lids from Rocki the resident racoon, nothing but the crickets. Even though tis early August I smell Autumn. The nights close in earlier, shrubs are losing their leaves, the sun's intensity is fading, and the earth is parched. I want to yell "hey not so fast Mother Nature" but I know better. We can only hope she decides to ease up and allow us a few more months of living with the windows and doors wide open.