The End of Summer

The day is hot. Hot, and I’m exhausted, and sluggish, and full of effort from the heat. So sluggish I say let’s drive to the river.  All summer long I’ve insisted on walking, or biking, even carrying inner tubes, and life vests, and water, and food, and shoes, and towels, and pulling dogs on leashes.  Now,…

Summer

These days are golden. Or that’s what I tell myself as we head to the river. It’s what I told myself in June or May even, before school was out, the day we drive down to the bay to buy oysters. The day we sit in sunshine and eat cinnamon rolls in the afternoon for…