With the steady heat and humidity seemingly here for the duration—and there are deluded souls who believe that climate change is a fantasy...—I'm not really looking for signs that summer is on the wane. Still, there are certainly the beginnings of inklings that we're at least approaching the peak and the start of autumn's distant approach. One odonate indicator is the appearance of the first Fawn Darner dragonfly at the kitchen porch light, and tonight, when I went outside at around ten to check for moths, there was the critter, named, I believe, on account of the fawn-like spots both sexes display on the thorax and abdomen, clinging to the shingles. Stasia was still up, so I urged her out to see it. She's become too phobic about insects, moths in particular, so I wanted her to see how benign the Fawn Darner was and coaxed it on to my finger. It didn't seem to mind but Stasia was, let us say, less than convinced. So was the weather.