Community of creatures that fly and have feathers, are kind of in sullen mood. It's the chill I guess, harkening the months of fall and winter. Either that or they have come to the same conclusion that I reached years ago, August sucks. But not for Butterfly and Moth, Yelling Frog and Cricket, and all creatures great and small that have an exoskeleton and biting mouth part.
There is however a developing Compost which if it were to earn a minimum
wage of seven dollars and fifty cents per hour would by now be worth it's weight
in gold. And if I live long enough to see the fruit of this labor driven
by wheel barrow through the early frosts of March to the Vegetable Garden, I'll
be a smug and wealthy Gardener indeed.