It happens every year. Sometime in mid April, we start hearing the peepers at night. Subtle at first, and then a loud screaming chorus long after dark. I never tire of this lullaby. Every year I make a note to self to notice when the transition takes place – the chorus stops. Mating season is over, and the peepers have grown and gone. And every year I fail to pinpoint that day.  Somehow it happens when I’m not paying attention. This year was no exception. I realized last night the peepers are gone, replaced by the sounds of tree frogs in the yard. The same is true with the birds singing before dawn as spring moves to summer. We are approaching the summer solstice – and dare I say it, the days start getting shorter again. One morning I will wake up and realize the birds have not been singing so early.  Watching the garden mark the seasons is a little easier – the rhythm of nature is visible. Snow drops to daffodils to lilacs and bachelor buttons  – indigo, sea holly, coriopsis, bee balm, queen Anne’s lace,  black eyed Susan’s, sunflowers, mums, and snow. Every year I tell myself to pay more attention, but really, it doesn’t matter what day the change takes place. More important to savor every sound and season for what they are. The seasons will change whether I’m paying attention or not.