The sun scorches us as we bike as fast as our feet will allow. 

“One hour until dinner is ready!” our mom warns as we exit the driveway, so we know there is limited time for exploring today.

We weave through the long grass and lift our feet high in the air as we pass over the muddy puddles from the storm earlier this morning. Once we arrive to the familiar opening in the woods, we drop our bikes and take off running, careful to avoid the spiky weeds and poison ivy. We race the whole way there, ducking under hanging branches, and leaping over fallen ones. 

“I win,I win!” our brother Kodie shouts. We all know it’s because he has the longest legs in our little clan. 

As we remove our sandals, boots, and flip-flops, one after another we make our way over the river, careful not to fall off the fallen tree we use for our means of transportation over the rushing ripples. Far too many times one of us ends up losing balance and plunking into the shallow waters. 

We tease each other and push our way to the front of the line, still careful not to step in the wrong spot, for fear we might break the old fallen tree and get stuck. The river is shallow, only about a foot deep, but the water rushes with great force and carries leaves as it flows north. Our younger brother, Grant, not as big of a nature enthusiast as the rest of us, prefers to watch from a safe distance on the river's edge. 

We soak in the last few minutes of the day's cool breeze and the scent of the rivers rushing waters. Taking a seat on our fallen tree, we watch as fish maneuver their way over, through, or around the pebbles that innocently mingle on the bottom. The water is clear enough for us to observe these interactions without much difficulty. 

I check my phone and note the time, fifteen minutes until dinner is ready. I signal the others and we all make our way back across the balance beam, throw on our shoes frantically, and race back through the woods to our bikes, still soaking in the sun peacefully, waiting for our return.