Last night it occurred to me that the summer was gone. I guessed by the rustling of the carton boxes the neighbor who came for seasonal work was packing. By the suitcases’ wheels hitting the cobblestone pavement as the holiday makers were dragging their luggage to the taxi stand. By the silence on our lane deserted by the old ladies and the latest gossip. By the night chills in the garden where the flowering jasmine was shooting its deep perfume. By the wind touching the leaves and heavy ripe fruits of the pomegranate trees. By the unexpected sadness in the songs that we cheerfully played all summer long. By the tired eyes of my staff. By the quietness of my husband. By the light sadness that crept in my heart.

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