At the park trails this morning, I heard more crickets than cicadas.

The barn swallows are still here, but they got up late.

Lots of dragonflies zooming around.

Some late summer flowers are still blooming. However, most have gone to seed.

Two monarch butterflies jittered up and down over the meadow, heading west toward the mountains.

The robins resumed their annual late summer flocking into the woods. I counted eight together this morning. Two robins bathed in a pool of rainwater, as one waited on a rock for its turn.

A couple of blue jays flew overhead, imitating hawks, while smaller birds zipped into hiding places. Some observers claim the jays do this on purpose, for a laugh.

Earlier this week, a muskrat* and I surprised each other. This morning, I saw it having some breakfast again, but it saw me first; and dove under the water too fast for another photo.

I don’t know what this animal is, though:

Last week, the green heron was seen balancing on a fallen bamboo shoot.

This morning, the blue heron stretched its wings.

Be advised that when you surprise a frog on the bank, it will squeak before it jumps into the water.

Also in the news this morning, the ducks scratched some itches.

That about wraps it up.

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* My husband says that a fishing guide he knew in Maine, named Grover Cleveland Alexander Sawyer, Jr., called them “mushrats.”