August arrived, and with something like celestial clockwork the crickets began their nightly ritual, and the morning breezes sent a flurry of yellow leaves floating like delicate ornaments to rest on the grass. Now it’s September, and I have a friend who threatens to arm herself with a glue gun and paste each leaf back onto its tree. She’s not one to be rushed into change; nor am I. However, sometimes life and nature have their own course to take. Well, maybe more than sometimes.