Silently, with no fanfare, like the certainty of a clock turning the hour, the whimsical nature of spring had flittered away to be replaced with the steady presence of summer.  It was as though all nature could sense the change and welcomed the promise of warmth with a contented sigh. 

The day had been golden and the pledge of more was heavy with the dew.  Darkness had descended on the orchard trees casting long cockeyed shadows as the sun dipped down the horizon with a satisfied and steady march.  The birds had completed their evening prayers and were tucked in their nests for the night.  The evening call of the spring peepers was clear and loud. The bats had begun their feasting as an army of mosquitoes descended with the cooler evening air.  A gentle breeze played with the freshly exposed leaves making them dance on the trees. 

Maybe it was the deception of the perfect day that made this presence of pain so revolting.  When life was so vibrant all around, death seemed shocking and violent, leaving those left behind violated.  The brief suffering was intense, exhaustion had set in as reality dawned in the eyes of the audience.  Death had been inevitable.  They could not stop its fateful advance.  As the light dimmed on a young life so full promise, nature itself gave pause.  Abruptly, the wind ceased, the frogs grew silent.  In that stillness the eyes forever closed, the struggle for breath ended, and vibrant strength of youth now lay limp and unresponsive. Unheeded by all inside the room, the vibrant woods roamed by the young life now gone, collectively paused, and shuddered.  A long, sad howl from Sully, the dog who had loved that boy so fiercely, broke the quiet.  

The pause ended. The grass fluttered, the wind again intent on its endless mission.  The frogs resumed their vigil. The far-off call of the train whistle sounded, and the world moved forward unaware.