We hitched the paddle board onto the car roof and squeezed the last bit of summer out of the tube. 

I launched our little vessel into the lac constant and had the wind behind me as I rowed along the banks to find my two boys in a clearing of pine trees.  

We had sandwiches and rosé and I swam out to the pontoon opposite and imagined living in the unseen house it belongs to and spending my afternoons reading beneath the poplars.

The wooded hills are beginning to look like heads of broccoli that are past their best.  But it's still 30° by the middle of the afternoon.

The weather man informs us that autumn starts tomorrow.