It's July, and the weather is heating up. From a cool 60* to near 90*, very little wind to gusting winds. The grass, once lush and green, has matured, and wave it's sere stalk. Quite the transformation is just a week. The robin's chicks now all fledged. I hope at least one of them survive, but, biologically, it's a real crap shoot. I think summer is the hardest season, mostly because it's all about change, not the subtle changes of winter, spring, and fall, but dramatic change. And boy, do we humans like to resist change.