Neverland had changed. It was not just that Peter had finally defeated Captain Hook, or that the Lost Boys had sailed away in the Jolly Roger, nor was it because Wendy, John and Michael were back in London with their parents. Neverland itself had changed, and was still changing.
For as long as Peter had been here the island had remained the same. The sun shone every day and a little light rain fell at night, the trees and bushes were always in leaf and flowers bloomed in the grass. Now Peter realised that sometimes it rained during the day and leaves were turning from green to orange and brown and starting to drop from the trees.
At first the changes did not matter to Peter, he accepted them as part of the natural progression. That was until one day he realised his tunic was shorter and tighter than it used to be, then he had to persuade Tiger Lily to make him a larger one.
A short while after that he found he had to duck to save bumping his head when he entered through the tree to the underground home.
Realisation hit him and Peter sat on the bottom step and wept. Not the weeping with pain that follows a fall, or the tears of remorse that come after a severe telling off, but deep heart-rending sobs that caused fat, hot tears to run down his cheeks and drop to the ground. Peter cried as he had never cried before, and never would again, for he was growing up.