When BC asked again about going to the lake both Beach and I shrugged.
It looks like summer but it feels like fall...
"Last chance summer weekend," he said.
So we baked oatmeal cookies and loaded the cooler with the fixings for a late lunch on the lake: chips, beer, lemonade, crisp apples, thick slices of cheese and turkey.
The lake seemed to agree with BC- last chance.
I have never seen it so low.
Like a bathtub draining.
Rings and rings of waterlines dropping lower and lower down the long beaches.
A quiet lake at the end of summer.
A mountain of buried treasures and curiosities popping from the ground.
Sun and a soft wind.
Warm sand and blue water.