Summer was gone too soon

The temperature was still in the mid-90s on a mid-September Saturday, so we decided to spend the day doing what we’d done most weekends for the past – very hot – four months. We called friends, packed ice chests and slathered sunscreen on the babies for a leisurely late afternoon boating on the Red River.

My husband’s enthusiasm for weekends at the river had started to wean. At this point in the summer season, after months of relentless and unforgiving heat, not even a dip in cool water can satisfy his desire for fall and all that comes with it. Duck hunts, football games, facial hair and beer festivals. That’s where his head is at by September’s arrival.

As we pulled into the Stoner boat launch, I noticed he wasn’t the only one ready to give up on summer. The typically packed parking lot was less than a quarter full. The slots to launch your boat were wide open. My guess is that the boat prep that once was a labor of love, now felt more like just plain work. The weather conditions were better than they’d been in months, but following Labor Day, it appeared many had willingly surrendered their love for the water along with their white pants.

We loaded the boat and buckled life jackets to head to the sandbar located in a bend on the river just north of downtown. As we passed downtown and approached our destination, it felt as if we were in the wrong spot.

The sandbar we frequented all summer looked as if it, too, had closed for the season. There were only two boats parked on the bank where boats had lined up all summer, shifting constantly to make room for more people and more boats. The once wide-open sandbar, where children tossed footballs and dogs ran freely was now abandoned by its people and covered in grass and mud.

My enthusiasm for the day started to wean.

It wasn’t how I pictured. I wanted just one more day, and summer was gone too soon.

We pressed on with our plans, spirits high, finding a flat, grass-free spot to unload our things and settle in. We set up chairs, selected a radio station, unpacked food, concerning ourselves with the adult things while the children did what they do best. They played, laughed, ran and explored the sandbar for any adventure it may have in store.

I looked up to see the kids charging for a mud hole, treating it like a backyard slip-nslide and coming out the other side covered from shoulders to toes in river mud. And for a split second, I wanted to join them in their complete abandon.

School may have started weeks prior and the sandbar conditions may have been less than ideal that day, but summer and all of its adventures lived on in their hearts.

There’s much to be learned simply by watching kids play. Sometimes I’m too grown up for my own good. Too concerned with what’s next to fully enjoy the day I’m in. And when was the last time I did much of anything with complete abandon?

Even as we packed up and journeyed back to the boat launch at sunset, the children danced and played like it was the first day of summer. Full of enthusiasm, as if they were doing it for the first time.

There’s something to be said for savoring the season you’re in. Whether that’s another 90-degree day when you’d rather it be in the 70s, or a rough patch in life when all you want is something to go your way.

In many ways, I find myself just as ready for the season’s change as the next person. I’d readily trade in my swimsuit and days on the water for riding boots and pumpkin spice lattes, but I know there will come a cold, grey day in January that I’ll wish for a warm, sunny day on the river.

Stephanie Jordan is a local journalist, marketer and blogger. Her blog can be found at www. stephanienetherton.blogspot.com, and she can be contacted at [email protected].

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