Finally, the hammock is down. The windows facing the lake have been boarded over. The kayaks, the grill and the patio furniture have been stored in the guest house. The flags—the American and the block O—have been lowered, folded and stored in the closet. The circuit breakers are in the off position. The pipes have been emptied, and the toilet and drains filled with antifreeze, etc. The beds are stripped.The half empty bottles of mustard and mayonnaise and kosher dills are packed into a box I will drop off at a neighbor’s because I can’t stand to throw away any food except stale bread. The doors are closed and locked.
I sat on the deck watching my husband take a final dip in the lake after all the work of closing up. The sun was shining and the cicadas were shrieking, but it still felt like summer. I spotted a few changes. The nights are cooler. A few spots of color have appeared in the trees. Summer is over, and it's time to head home.
When I retire, I shall live at camp year round. Then it will be summer all the time.