Moonflowers, heavy, late to bloom collapsed the trellis. Sphinx moths, wings vibrating against heart-shaped leaves, red eyes glowing, find the sprawl.
Hummingbirds, fewer in number seem less frenzied.
Loons are trilling in the cove.
Sky puppies dip and dive in the dusky back-shadow of violet clouds.
Beaches have mercifully emptied of loud rednecks with their cheap beer, tricked-out trucks and sloppy women.
Terns, once squawky and testy while nesting, accept my presence.
A rogue wave washes my jeans to the knees as I pick through the flotsam of another season.