On the last of summer.

The team here at Enthusiasms back from our extended holiday—we made a last-minute trip to far Northern VT last week for a vacation from vacation. It was lovely and very autumnal and also full of spiders, to whom a canoe was surrendered after a brief battle. RIP to those fallen spiders in (many) arms.

Onward to our regularly scheduled programming.

<3, J

We couldn’t figure out which way the water was flowing. In the morning, the tide covered the little sandy spit we had to cross to reach the bridge. The three of us stood there for a moment, contemplating our options. It was shallow enough. I hiked up my skirt and waded through.

The water was cool, silty. Little crabs skittered out of our path. In town, I looked down and noticed my feet were filthy—covered in a thin slick of mud and black between my toes.

What happened to me? I said to C. and my sister. They’d both tried, after their feet had gotten wet, to stay out of the sand on the path. Hadn’t I noticed that?

When, I asked, laughing, have I ever been careful?