The air was so thick you could drown before you hit the water. Record temps of the day still held onto our skin, as the great inferno reluctantly turned down its flames.
Time for a boat ride.
I hadn’t done this in eons. To slip into the dark room of the lake, friends chatting bravely, soothing summer ballads floating off on our self-created breeze.
By now the busy buzzing of motorcraft had faded away, leaving waterfowl clustered in quiet gossip far from shore.
Only occasionally did we see murky shapes glide by with Christmas lights in front and a fallen star caught high on the back.
Reminding us to gaze up and reacquaint ourselves with old friends.