The earth is hurtling towards that point in its orbit where long days tip towards long nights. Summer will turn to autumn in human terms, but other species experience more gradual transitions. Last week at work, I took a walk with a late summer score on a day cooled by intermittent clouds. The forest buzzed with cicadas. Foraging birds chipped among branches and startled chipmunks panicked in streams of high-pitched chirps. I passed underneath a worried gray squirrel. It twitched its tail while incessantly calling out a raspy alarm. When I returned ten minutes later, the squirrel was still calling and had even acquired a curious catbird who screeched replies from the underbrush.

I approached the pond and triggered a medley of soft ker-plinks. Rows of painted turtles lined logs near shore in their quest to soak up solar energy. I continued to watch as the turtles drained away. Singly or in groups they lost their nerve and slipped under the water. One little turtle skidded across a lily pad before disappearing.

 

The bullfrogs were much braver, or at least trusted in their camouflage. I saw them everywhere once I began looking - like frog statues tucked in green water among sticks and lily pads or up on shaded bits of shore. The waning solar energy will eventually cause both species to seek shelter on the bottom of the pond.