Doctor Grandma

It is sinking lower and lower. There is a foot or two of mud, after the grass and before the water. Down by the bridge, where the water never moves much anyway, it is beginning to smell. Along the edges, you can now see some of the plant life below the surface, as it is not deep there. There are still some toads at night, hopping toward the water, still some dragonflies, but the loud singing at night has stopped. There are still sounds but they are less rowdy and joyful, more muddled. Summer is gradually leaving, though we still have highs in the 90s in late September! Nights are getting down to the low 60s. There is one gray, large or medium bird (depending on what other bird you compare it to) who still flies across the pond away from any human being when you go walking. Compared to a large white heron, it is small. Compared to any sort of robin or mocking bird, it is very large. I don’t know what it is.

And we really need RAIN. A lot of it, and more than once please.

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