There’s a distinctly steamy, balmy, summery quality to summer nights at the lake. As far as I can tell, it doesn’t matter what lake or river, if you’ve got a dock and some water, there will be cicadas chirping quietly, water lapping softly, laughter punctuating the peace in welcome staccatos. Perhaps there’s a breeze that cools skin from the day’s heat, or maybe light beads of perspiration form from the heat.
The days are similarly, uniformly blissful: the sun heats tan skin, boats roar by, water splashes, louder than at night, laughter breaks the air, more frequently. Cold drinks, sweet fruit, and chips that never tasted so salty interrupt lounging on towels, floating in tubes, and the freeing feel of wind on overjoyed faces during boat runs up and down the river.
The days are somehow longer, the mind at peace, the body at ease.
Technically speaking, we went to “the river” which is Southern California speak for the Colorado River in Parker, Arizona although we were on the California side, below Lake Havasu.