We have had a beautiful stretch of unseasonably warm October weather for the past several days, and are grabbing as many beach days as possible before this autumn tease ends.
Even though we spend much of the summer in or near the water, there is something about warm fall days at the beach that signal the need to imprint these moments. Could this be the last beach day until spring? Could this be the last time I watch a four-year-old build an elaborate sandcastle for her fairies, a two-year-old splash in the waves with his invisible friend, and a nine-month-old try desperately to eat as much sand as possible before her mommy interrupts?
I know. Next summer will be just as wonderful with a five-year-old, a three-year-old, and a one-year-old doing equally remarkable things. But there is just something about one more day at the beach, in fall, that calls me to stop, to watch, to remember. Right now. This moment. This gift of time and space with these special people who will grow up--who are growing up--so fast it's hard to believe.
So, yes, I will treasure one more day at the beach. One more day to stop.
One more day to watch.
One more day to remember.
