The gravel crunches under the car as we turn down the winding road beside the lake. 

I glance out the window, watching the boats fly past the shore. 

The car pulls to a stop as my brother and I unbuckle our seat belts.

A black blur dashes up the stairs, her tail wagging vigorously. 

My cousins are close behind her, already yelling to us, recounting a new story. 

I hoist as many bags as I can carry onto my arms, walking precariously down the steep set of wooden stairs to the house. 

My grandparents and aunt wait in the living room as I dump everything in front of the fireplace and go around giving out hugs.

I turn and pull aside the screen door, stepping out onto the deck. 

My eyes scan my surroundings, taking in the familiarity of what has come to be a second home. 

My cousins and brother soon find me, and I join them, laughing and running down to the water. 

The ducks parade by the dock as we sit down in the sun, breathing in the fresh July day.

We talk and touch the water, before deciding who has to jump in first. 

I adjust my swim shirt with one hand as the other takes off my hat.

I grin, backing up and sprinting towards the edge of the dock, leaping off just at the end. 

The water cools my skin as I let myself sink below the surface. 

Three more splashes follow as the boys all jump in after me. 

I quickly swim over to one of the non-slimy rocks to stand on, waiting for the rest of them to resurface. 

We swim and kayak around until the evening starts to arrive, and I hang back for a moment as they run up to dinner. 

I smile, hearing the loons calling in the distance and feeling a cool breeze blow my hair in the wind. 

I take it all in, the beauty of Little Sebago Lake.