Summer Is Over

It's only just turned August. But just now a cricket started piping under my study window. The sound conjures up so much nostalgia for me, it almost makes a lump come into my throat. Cool days, frost on the grass in the mornings, car doors slamming. Getting ready for school. Wearing a jacket with a hood in the morning, carrying it over my arm on the way home. Maple trees decked with sunset colors. Running from the bus stop to keep warm. I remember E.B. White's classic line in Charlotte's Web, the crickets singing, "Summer is over, summer is over, summer is over and gone." It makes me think of things quickening.