When we’re in town on a hot day, Mike exercises Bess at the beach in lieu of her evening constitutional. He uses a “Chuck-It” to toss balls into the river for her to fetch. Naturally, it’s her favorite thing to do, and she starts to nag us well before it’s time to go. If perchance we take her for a walk instead of to the beach, she will indicate her displeasure by attempting to herd us, as if to say, “No, no! This isn’t what I want to do.”
During the summer weeks, there were other families at that beach, but as soon as school started (Aug. 26 or so), we pretty much had it to ourselves. I guess families just have other activities when school starts, but it was still hot – over 100 – and as we drove past the ballfield at the school, we marveled at the kids suited up for football practice in the hot afternoon sun.
On Wednesday (Sept. 3), we noticed the river was rather high, and half of the beach was under water. We opined that they must be letting water through the dam. On Thursday, “the beach” was just a little strip at the edge of the water. Friday, I didn’t go, but Mike took Bess and said the beach was totally under water. There was no beach. He threw a few balls for Bess but didn’t take his customary dip.
It's just a sign that summer draws to a close. I washed our towels and suits and put them away. Mike’s not so sure, but I’m finished.
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