Acorns fall from oak trees, plinking off the roofs of houses and sheds, plunking onto dry ground and crunching underfoot during fall hikes. Flocks of geese fly to winter homes with whooshing wing beats, honking their alerts to other air travelers. Crickets hum and strum in the evening air, distinctly cooler now and laced with wisps of fog. Waves lap at a broad, sandy shoreline nourished by the drifts of summer, gently urging Islanders to store up swims like a squirrel stores nuts for winter. Children whoop with joy at three o'clock on school days and frolic on the soccer field on precious Saturdays.

The dulcet sounds of autumn fill the ears; they are the decrescendo in the symphony of summer.