Faro played in the water with a basketball that had come floating in while Saffi slept in a sling close to her mom, oblivious of the fun to be had at the waterfront. We climbed rocks, and played around the heavily corroded pipe that drains the Putman estate. Faro likes to climb on top of the 1 foot diameter pipe and sticks his head in. He listens to his words as they reverberate deep inside the pipe, throwing in all the names of his family on the other end of the beach: papa, mama, Saffi, opa and oma.
At lunch time the Easthampton family departed to visit one other set of grandparents before heading home. I took advantage of the cool breeze to clean up that part of the flower garden that was starting to seed itself – it is already a tumble of perennials – so control measures were needed. Removing the many dead stalks also allowed me to get to the hundreds of cherry tomatoes that are ripening on the vine.
Today was the first time that I was not able to swim across the cove or to the mouth of the cove as I have done so many times during the summer. The water was too cold; the kind of cold that hurts when you dive in and isn’t going away within a few strokes. I sputtered and gasped for a short distance and turned around. I tried again after warming up a bit in the sun but it made no difference – maybe swimming season is over. Something has shifted – it’s fall, and the wind is coming from another direction.
Sylvia's Journal 
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