I began
to realize the other morning—another glorious one, by the way—that there remain only
a few weeks of “cottage life” for this summer. Without any fanfare or
heralding, those little “hints” have begun appearing all about, particularly
the trees and bushes displaying slight tinges of rust and orange and yellow.
Even the sunlight has begun to have different slants throughout the day, and
the shadows seem to be deeper as the dark of night creeps in so much earlier.
Yesterday,
as I cruised in the pontoon rather late in the afternoon, I thought it was more
of a September day than a late summer August one. The vacationers have mostly
wrapped things up and gone back to their routines of jobs and other family
duties. Many kids have started school—or will very soon—and the tubes and jet
skis and wave runners are few and far between now, a sure harbinger that the
end of summer is edging closer.
When I
pushed off from our pier, I seemed to be the only boat on the lake. Even the fishermen,
who thrive on days such as this, when the lake is free of wild and crazy
traffic, were not to be seen. I had the lake all to myself.
I loved
chugging around at a very slow pace, studying the shore and the piers and the
houses that I’ve studied hundreds of times before. While I noticed that nothing
had been closed up or put away at these places, there seemed to be a sense of
calm and quiet, with everything seemingly at rest in the late afternoon
sunshine.
For
whatever reason, there seems to be that intangible “thing”—feeling?—that seems to show its face around here this time each
summer. Somehow, it triggers a kind of inner alarm clock that says: Enjoy it while you can…closing time ain’t
that far away! And when “closing day” does
arrive (September 16), I’m pretty much ready for it so that we, too, can get
back to our fall and winter and spring routines. Curiously, though, it seems to
get here much too soon. After all, wasn’t
it just the 4th of July? Perhaps it only seems this way because
I’m another year older, and what seemed to drag on forever when I was young and
foolish now seems to go fleetingly that I’m old and foolisher! (Thank you, Mark Twain!)
I
suppose I’ll have more thoughts along these lines in the days ahead as the
summer winds down, and I had best take the advice of that inner alarm clock and
enjoy it while I can. I’ll keep to my
daily routines here in the weeks that remain. There will be morning coffee on
the porch so I can watch the lake “go by.” There will be lots of quiet time to
write my morning’s “stint” and update my blogs. There will be many hours to
read the good books that sit on the shelf above the microwave awaiting my
attention. There will be walks to take the trash to the dumpster. And, of
course, there will be slow chugs around the lake, late afternoons, to once
again see the little “hints” that closing
time ain’t that far away!...MLA
No comments:
Post a Comment