September 03, 2007
The tourists, with their fast motorboats and loud jet skis, have gone home. The summer people have boarded up cottages, pulled out docks, and locked cabins. Boats are tied to posts, pulled up on the shore, or taken home on trailers. Fall will bring duck hunters, who construct blinds out of wire fencing and clumps of cattails, and a small wave of tourists who will come to admire the foliage. But in early September, the river is quiet.
In our bay, the water dropped, as it always does near the end of August, leaving thick mats of floating weeds and water lily pads. Our peninsula of oak trees and white pines was more private than ever, as we played bocce or took out the canoes or found quiet places to read or nap. My father worked on his boat and the teenagers did their summer homework while the rest of us relaxed, enjoying the warm sunshine and gorgeous weather, trying to get our fill of sunshine before the winter ahead.
Posted by jo(e)