Last gasp of summer

We ducked under the specter of autumn this weekend and sailed with the wind through one final, determinedly summer day.

Sail might be a generous verb for what we did, which involved some tugging and yanking, but eventually we found our flow and let the current carry us for a time. How often do we humans get a chance to do that?

The water snatched out breaths away when we first waded in, a delicious shock that always makes me feel younger and braver than I am. Then, we settled in and enjoyed the ride.

Because Saturday looked like summer, but felt like fall, we had the whole river to ourselves, except for a bunch of young geese in training and all the fish dodging them. That felt like a treat too.

Summer always peeks around the corner of spring in Wisconsin, and enters so hesitatingly we wonder if it will stay at all. Then, just when it’s getting comfortable and letting loose its wild bursts of color, breath and noise, it disappears, often in a moment.

“Was that it?” we ask ourselves as we pop one last marshmallow in our mouths and listen for the coyotes’ song. Then, just in case, we throw another log on the fire and settle back to make the magic last a little longer.

I’m a big fan of October’s sweet magic, and November’s gratitude. I’m also looking forward to casting my vote in a pivotal election.

Until then, though, I hope to see just a little more summer poking through those clouds and, when it does, I’m heading out to say hello.