End of Summer - Wells and Ogunquit, Maine

The surf at Wells Beach, Maine, where only the scarcity of swimmers may indicate this is the end of summer.

King of all he surveys from a height of about nine or ten inches, this seagull may regret the end of summer, if only because he has fewer opportunities to mooch off beach-goers.

Down the road in Ogunquit, this single rosebud on The Marginal Way is more optimistic about plenty of summer left to come.

The Last Rose of Summer by Thomas Moore:

"'TIS the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Loves shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?"