The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves at such an angle as to clearly herald the end of summer and trigger that particular brand of nostalgia that accompanies the last few days before school starts.

The party of four–now seven–hiked slowly down the trail, its original members arguing about how long it had been since they last traversed this particular stretch of mountainous forest.

"I'm telling you, I don't think any of us were married yet, so 13 years ago. And I know it was Labor Day," said Marie.

"Mommy, can we have the gummies NOWWWW?" asked Sam, a pained pleading look on her face.

"Not yet, sweetie," said Marie, "let's to go a little further first."

"It had to be 14 years ago because they got married Labor Day weekend," said Al.

"I think he is right," said Julia nodding at Al. She stopped and took a drink from her water bottle and watch her son who had paused with his best friend at the river's edge to huck big rocks into the water. "You know we are washing your hair tomorrow," she said to the grubby nine-year-old.

Her son looked up from a mass of long tangled blonde locks and gave her a dirty look. He didn't reply but continued his conversation about battle droids with his buddy.

The group stepped aside to let four youthful hikers pass at a sharp clip. Two men and two women. They were fit, tan, and carried large packs, clearly packed for a night or two in the mountains.

"They could be us in 10 years," said Julia under her breath to Marie who laughed softly.

The party continued on. Some of its members debated hotly if they had, in truth, taken a different approach to the lake in 2005. Others discussed various Star Wars scenarios. Sam continued to whine for gummies but was temporarily subdued with wild blueberries.

"I remember Pete lake, but how can you tell if this is the same trail or not?" said Julia shaking her head. "We have gone on so many hikes, the trails are all blur together in my mind." She waved her hand in front of her face.

They passed a couple with a four-year-old and with a baby strapped to the man's chest. The mother picked a binky up out of the dirt, wiped it on her shirt, and stuck it back in her infant's mouth. They looked tired.

"We might look older, but I don't miss that stage AT ALL," said Al after the young family was safely out of hearing range.

"We aren't that tired anymore, but the babies are what aged us," said Julia.

The adults in the group laughed at this.

"Ah, how things change," said Marie.