It kinda’ made me sad, looking at the old minnow buckets sitting on the end of the dock.
They look so lonely.
I’m used to seeing a group of young, freckled faced, hair bleached, bare footed, sun screen-greased boys with their legs dangling over the edge of the dock, anticipating their big catch of minnows.
Yup…summer is definitely over and the kids in this neighbourhood have all gone back to school today. It definitely feels different around here. My friend and I went power walking in the lake this rainy afternoon and there was no one to be seen in any direction we looked – no Sea Doos ripping up the water, no children romping around on the beach, no people floating on their inflatable rafts – it was unusually quiet…
…until a dead, twelve inch catfish floated by me and well, I’m ashamed to admit it but I screamed like a girl.
It’s like the water is letting us “cottagers” know that summer is over. I’ve learned that when you live by the water, you experience a stronger sense of seasonal change than when you live in the city. The type of bugs, the wind, the color of the water, the feel of the air, the boats that get shrink-wrapped and stored, the docks and the water lines that come in, the towels and the toys that are put into cupboards, the water shoes that are lined up neatly on the shelves – everything points to change.
Change is good but most people I know fight it. You’d think change would be embraced but most people crave predictability. This is odd to me because change is one of the few constants in life.
Change and the God who brings forth change – these are the constants.
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1.17 NIV
I don’t say it very loudly but I’ve had enough summer. I’m very ready for the fall.
It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.