When I was young at the river, I went canoeing with my family. I remember rowing, creating our small puddles, seeing fish and turtles and water lilies with frogs on them. I remember I cooled myself down by dipping my hand in the water. We ate on the canoe and had water gun fights, pretending we were on a ship. I was always the captain, but also the one who got the most wet.

When I was young at the river, the rocks felt smooth in my hand. If we skipped stones or threw rocks into the water, I heard the small spatters or large splashes of water. I could also hear birds in the trees and fish jumping in and out of the water. I tasted the oranges my parents brought, and the chocolate I secretly brought. Sometimes I gave it to them, but most of it was for me, … me and my sibling.

When I was young at the river, I was always nervous to skate or hike on the frozen river in the winter. It cracked a lot, and even thought I knew it would be fine because my dad walked before me, it was still terrifying. We sometimes skated on the ice, which was somehow less worrying that the ice would break. It still cracked, one step, crack, one skate, crack, one motion, crack. I was nervous but excited at the same time.

At the river, I always remember during the summer, my family and I would go wading in the water. We usually walked up current, making it hard to walk. I always felt like I was going to fly away. It was a great way to cool off without getting fully wet. We could see fish swimming beneath us. They always swam away when we got too close. When we finally walked back, it would be quicker, sometimes so quick I had to hold on to a branch or a rock. I can’t wait to do it next summer and see the fish and tadpoles and butterflies again.