In eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union, September 1st marks the first day of school, when children wrap up school supplies and flowers for their teachers as the yellow light of summer fades to gold. We lived in four of those countries, and the first day of school still takes me back there. Where coffee shops were filled with more chestnuts than pumpkin spice, and the harvest season celebrates grapes and squash in all shapes and sizes. In Arlington, our fall routine is school football games, maple frosted doughnuts, and more varieties of apples than I can count! Everywhere we’ve lived, autumn is busy with the hopes of a new season, and dusk creeps into our evenings before we’re quite ready for summer to end.

July and August in D.C. are fun. It’s hot, sometimes too hot, but there is a whole different attitude toward summer on the East Coast that makes it neat to live here. The office becomes more casual, closets rotate to vacation clothes, and there is another life to live after work when the sun stays up for hours. The breeze is warm enough to ride my scooter to work, and the boys meet the most interesting people during their lifeguard shifts. The Georgetown waterfront and the monuments swarm with tourists. Mike got us tickets to Merriweather Post to see Mumford and Sons!

The other great part about living here is having so many friends and family close by. It’s always easy to meet for happy hour, or burgers, or to celebrate a new baby, or just to talk over cookies as we all go through the ups, downs, and regular days that mark our normal lives.

We also spent a really nice weekend at the beach. Nothing like one last hurrah at the Eastern Shore to soak up the last bit of summer! This was our first family trip to an American beach, although beaches everywhere are pretty much the same. Whether it’s Italy, Mozambique, Greece, or the Black Sea, there are always french fries, parents trying to put sunscreen on their squirming kids, and sunburned people asleep in the sand.

The Eastern Shore is only two hours away and is truly one of the summer gems of living here. Unlike the golden sand and giant waves of the West coast, Delaware beaches are narrow and crowded, but they make up for it with small town ambience. The boardwalks are busy with restaurants and boutiques selling sea glass jewelry, and families in flip flops queue in long lines for pizza and waffle cones. Shiny retro cars are out and about being enjoyed by their owners, and bands of teenagers walk up and down the sand. The sun is hot and the air is balmy, and even after the sun goes down, it never feels cold.

Now that school has started again, summer lifeguard shifts are winding down. Saturdays are for studying or taking the SAT. High school football rivalries begin again with themes like Western and White Out, and the boys are out the door for fall rowing practice on the Potomac at 5am. Jake will go shopping with me for jeans and shoes that Eli ends up wearing, and both of them make signs and plans for Homecoming weekend with their friends.

Mike and I go to Parent Night to hear what they’ll be learning in Biology, Math, IB English and AP Gov, and I love meeting their teachers and hearing about their days, and walking through the hopeful energy of these hallways. I try not to think that this is the last one.

By senior year most of the consequences of what our children chose to do, or not do, are clear. College applications are almost done, we start to make plans for this year’s holidays, and it’s tempting to believe that something is ending.

But outside in the sky, as the leaves turn gold, geese are honking and on their way somewhere, busily starting a new journey. No amount of desperate planning can change that this stage will end, but it seems there is always another journey just waiting for us to get started. And inevitably, that journey is one we couldn’t imagine not taking.

We’ve survived so many journeys already. I expect we’ll keep surviving.