A False Fall

Mrs. Wigglebottom and I went out for our regular walk this morning. It was very creepy. Finally, there's a little coolness in the morning air. Not enough to make you comfortable, but enough to reassure you that autumn is coming. The other sad reminder is that the trees have already begun to let go of their leaves. I hear that other parts of town are getting rain, but all we've been getting is the menacing thunder. We've had brown grass for weeks, but now it's starting to show on the trees. Many of them are marbled with brown leaves. Some are dropping leaves. The ones that are still green are curled and dry. The magnolias are stressed and even the evergreens are drooping. This morning was the first time all summer that we weren't surrounded by the noises of birds and bugs chirping and humming. The whole neighborhood was eerily quiet and Mrs. Wigglebottom and I both were on edge. It got me wondering if trees pray--for rain or for sunshine or for fair weather. And I guess if a prayer is a hope you can't do anything about but articulate, then each crunchy leaf we stepped on today was a desperate prayer for an end to hot and dry.