The extended cold rainy spell that threatened to ruin our summer finally moved aside just in time for a bona fide hot spell. Once the temps pass eighty the dogs engage in a game of stare down that quickly drives me insane, so a good portion of the weekend was spent soaking our troubles away.
It seems impossible that we well see leaves changing color soon. With this in mind, and while we still may, we drink in every last bit of summer that remains. The dogs are experts on the subject, always the first to turn up the fun factor. We follow their lead, and find ourselves enjoying a near perfect day.
The Labs waste no time finding deep water. It's too hot to just soak paws, so full immersion is required.
Of course, no visit to the river is complete without Nigel running an equipment check.
I was too busy laughing at Nigel to notice that Truffles had found a stick, and was giving Sola a serious case of stinkeye in order to prevent theft.
Nigel was kind enough to remind me that the best views were to be had a few feet away from the water's edge.
It was simply quixotic. I took in the smells of a truly hot summer day, smells that had almost faded from memory. The forest surrounding us was dank and mossy, and gave off a distinctly earthy smell that quickly fades as the cool nights of September approach. The sun shone right through me. I perched on the bank of this glorious river, surrounded by beauty. I watched my incredible, beautiful, kind-hearted wife and loving, wonderful dogs bask in the light of summer, and I knew complete happiness.
Once the dogs were thoroughly waterlogged we made our way up the banks and headed for the back porch to dry off. Twenty steps from the house I stopped walking and apologized to Mrs. Author. She gave me a puzzled look as I reached in to the pocket of my now drenched shorts. I handed her one fully submerged, non-functioning pink Motorola Razr.
There's a new cell phone in town. It seems to get along with Mrs. Author's headset quite nicely, so I suppose it is here to stay. Like it's predecessor, it is not waterproof. So each time the dogs stare me down and urge me to throw on the bathing suit, I will remember this moment: one utopian summer day when our family was at peace, none of us had a care, and the glass was categorically, unequivocally, and indubitably more than half full.
