The sun is more sluggish these days, rising later, taking those few extra minutes before peeking over the horizon.
The sun seems more tired in the evening, retiring earlier, its dimming brilliance filtering through the trees as we bounce on the trampoline.
The mornings are cool and the evenings are chilly, those sun-splashed July endless summer days fading fast in the rear-view mirror.
The wine glasses no longer sweat and the beer stays colder. The music seems louder in the clear evening sky. Perhaps it's the absence of the buzzing dragonflies.
The horses are winding down the meet at Saratoga, the jockeys thinking of Belmont.
It's late August and we're thinking about Halloween.
There's still some summer, but we know it's not much as we look at a new backpack, lunchbox and pencil set stacked neatly in the corner.