This story is part of our August 2026 issue. To read the print version, click here.

It was the golden hour at the Jersey Shore. As the summer afternoon started to wane, my father would look around at our big crowd sitting in beach chairs, lying on blankets or playing in the sand and say, “Time to go in!” It was our favorite time of the day. My father and mother, along with my brother and cousins, aunts and uncles, would run to the shoreline and wade out as far as we could to catch the breaking waves.

The adults would be almost up to their necks, but that’s what made it fun and exhilarating — trying to jump over the biggest waves that came crashing down on us. I was too little to stand with them, so Dad would put me on his shoulders, and he’d get soaked while I stayed dry. He didn’t want me to miss out on this family time.

It is one of my earliest, fondest memories of summer. Pure play and abandonment for both adults and children. We’d been camped out all day, lugging umbrellas, a cooler full of sandwiches my mother made that tasted so good, sand toys, footballs, horseshoes, cards and whatever gear we could carry to allow us to spend the entire day at the beach without having to walk back to our rented bungalow half a block away.

I thought a lot about summer this year, and I admit part of me dreaded it. The adult part. We’ve had some brutal summers in Sacramento. In 2022, we had 10 days of triple-digit heat capped off by our highest temperature ever — 116 degrees on Sept. 6. In 2020, when I worked the U.S. Census as a side hustle, I had to walk door to door and knock on apartment and home doors when it was 109 degrees outside.

And I can’t forget July 2009, when we had 11 straight days of 100-plus degree days — the longest period ever of consecutive triple-digit temps, according to the National Weather Service. I remember how miserable I was and so grateful when the heat wave finally broke and the Delta breeze kicked in.

So I wasn’t surprised that I started the season thinking maybe I prefer cooler weather after all, bundling under a warm blanket with a good book. But then the signs of summer started to kick in.

My bare and barren backyard started coming to colorful life again. Roses bloomed, along with zinnias and sunflowers. The vegetable garden burst bigger each day, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I could cook with fresh zucchini and tomatoes and pick the fragrant basil that would be ground into pesto.

At the same time, all the local farmers markets exploded with fresh-picked peaches, plums, pluots, watermelon, strawberries, cherries and melon. I realize I eat so much healthier in the summer with this abundance available.

The summer night concert series began. Just about every community has one. For me, I divide my time between concerts at the newly renovated Fair Oaks Village, the amphitheater in old Folsom and the Orangevale Community Park, where there are food trucks, plus beer and wine for sale.

We have so many water possibilities to refresh ourselves in our region, whether it’s the American River, Folsom Lake or Lake Tahoe. I hit the water in June with my first paddle of the season at Black Miners Bar on Lake Natoma, which has grown so much in popularity that rangers had to close the entrance at 10:30 a.m. on the Fourth of July due to it being filled to capacity.

And I get to see and talk with my neighbors who emerged from their homes after a long winter. During my twilight walks, I might stop at the one neighbor who has set out three rocking chairs for conversation or the other one who invites passersby to join her on her deck overlooking our nature trail.

In other words, summer brings us simple joys and togetherness we don’t get at other times of the year. It’s a more relaxing time when we ease up and let go just a bit more to enjoy this unique season.

I think of summers past, when one year I stupidly worked full-time in a factory, plus a part-time fast food job, to earn money for college. I swore never to do that again. So the next year, some girlfriends and I rented a cottage at the Jersey Shore and got jobs there instead. (I had a blast as a bartender.) Or later, as I started a family, planning outings and adventures for my two daughters that would all be spent outside swimming, riding bikes, throwing picnics and searching for constellations in the night sky.

Whether you’re a beach person or prefer the lake or mountains, summertime just hits differently. We’re more carefree, and our concerns seem lighter. We eat barbecued burgers in the backyard, lick the ice cream cone and sip the cocktail on the deck while the dog and kids run through the sprinkler.

So as the days start to get shorter, the concerts end, my garden turns brown and we get cooler days, I’m going to do what I’ve done every year: Soak in every last minute of sunshine before the winter chill arrives, and we all retreat to the inside of our homes again.

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