I can remember those hot summer days when I’d take my kayak out onto the river. Each summer I lived on that boat, blistering in the scorching sun, my skin freckling up to look like a spotted egg. Some days I wouldn’t even paddle; I’d just lie there in my boat and close my eyes. Once in a while a dragonfly would buzz by, the sound alarmingly loud for such a quiet, lazy river, and I’d startle awake only to find the tiny creature resting idly on my knee, looking up at me with jewel-like eyes.

As the sun rose higher and the atmosphere grew warmer and the days got longer, I’d slip my hands out of the boat and into the silky, cool water. Every so often a curious sunfish would swim by and circle around my fingers, perhaps wondering if they were worms or not. But a slight twitch of the hand would send him darting off. Some days I’d take my net out on the kayak with me and would spend hours catching and releasing box turtles. The hot weather made them slow and lazy and they were like sitting ducks. It was as if time stood still out on the river.

Years passed by and still my summers would be spent out on the river, catching turtles, watching the ducks swim by with their families, dragonflies flitting back and forth over the calm waters. But each year the river’s current got slower and the turtles had learned not to come near me and the river weeds grew thicker and I found myself going out less and less on my kayak.

Winters came and the river froze over. Seasons came and went and years passed by in a blur. Then I turned twelve and I learned we were going to move. Suddenly the river called to me and for once in a very long time I wanted to answer. I wished to be carried slowly again by the current, play with the hard-shelled box turtles, hear the wings of a dragonfly in motion, feel the slimy side of a sunfish again. I longed for the eternal summers that I had taken for granted. I yearned for the scorching sun and my speckled arms and shoulders. But it was not meant to be. I did move and left that magical place behind for another child to hopefully discover in the future. But the sweet memories of those days on the river are enough for now, for one day I will return.