The pool is down to seventy degrees and we are all still getting in.
That’s more or less the state of the Nap household in September. Nobody has said the word “done” out loud, so we are not done. I check the thermometer every afternoon like it’s going to tell me something different. (Seventy is fine. Sixty-five and below is character-building.)
The weather right now is genuinely the best we get all year – mid-seventies, no humidity, and that late afternoon light that makes everything look better than it is. And I’ll admit it makes me a little anxious. The days are noticeably shorter now, and every perfect September afternoon is also evidence that it’s slipping. I catch myself doing the math on how many are left.
The kids, meanwhile, are thrilled. School started and everyone did awesome – new schools, new teachers, new routines, and every one of them came home smiling ear to ear. Grayson even made Jenna wait on his first day of preschool because he had to finish cleaning up.
Henry had his first day of playgroup, and that one was all tears as his teacher whisked him away. We were told he recovered fast. It still leaves a lump in your throat as a parent, but it’s part of growing up.
Sports are back too, which means the calendar quietly refilled itself while I wasn’t looking. Ellie and Jack have soccer games and practices, and they’re both doing gymnastics. Grayson watched Jack’s class from the sideline with a look I recognized – you have to be four and a half to join, and he is not four and a half. He is also the same kid who refused to set foot on the mat the last time we were there, so I’m not entirely sure what to expect.
None of this runs itself, and I am not the one running it. Jenna engineered the entire summer – the camps, the day trips, the afternoons that turned into campfires and s’mores with family and friends – and made it look like we just got lucky with the weather. Now she’s taken four schedules that all changed in the same week and is miraculously turning them back into something that functions. There is a calendar. It is color-coded. I have only been granted viewing access.
Everyone’s done great with the transition of seasons. I’m the one holding on the hardest though, and I’m holding on through the boat.
Fall gets written off by people who have their boats shrink-wrapped in the weeks following Labor Day, and I think they have it backwards. The water is still warm, the crowds are gone, the bait shows up, and you can have a morning out there almost to yourself. Some of the best days of the year happen after everyone else has decided the season is over.
What I really want – and I’ll put it in writing so it’s on record – is a giant bluefin tuna this September or October. The permit is squared away, the reels are ready, and I have a short list of friends who have agreed to be cold and tired with me on a Saturday morning for no promised return. We’ve come home with nothing plenty of times, but eventually the odds have to improve…
We’re also doing family photos on the beach this week, which feels like the correct use of a September afternoon. Six of us in the sand, dressed like it’s still August, chasing the last of the light before the sun drops and settles the argument.
So if you’ve already written off the summer, I’d give it another few weeks before you drain anything. The weather is too good to waste, and the water is warmer than you think. Enjoy the fall from all of us at the Nap house.
