On the river

The first part of this week was so hot and humid that I felt myself moving sluggishly, as if I were underwater. The low pressure systems that kept moving through left me on the edge of a migraine. Even the cats in the house just stretched out on the floor as if they were dead, too hot even to hiss at each other.

Driving up to my parents' camp was like stepping through a window into another world, a cooler, shadier one. The wind blew across the deep cold river and through acres of rippling cattails and swept through my brain. I put on long pants almost as soon as I stepped from my car and put my fleece on for the game of bocce we played under the oak trees. By the time the sun had begun to set, I was looking forward to the warmth of the campfire and the coziness of a sleeping bag inside my tent.