Whenever I visit White Water Bay, I think about the water.

I recently read that there are half a million gallons of water in the park’s Wave Pool alone. Between the Activity Pool and the Lazy River, I’d guess that’s over a million gallons. Add in all the other rides and there’s probably one and a half million gallons of water throughout in the park.

Upon entering I’m blinded as the sun reflects off everything blue. What to do first? Ride the rides? Slide the slides? For me, it’s the Lazy River. The Lazy River is a long and winding and relatively shallow concrete river that leads you all around the park. Upon entering, the flowing current instantly propels you forward — whoosh! — on your own scenic tour of the park. You’ll see the children’s spray ground, lots of slides, even those half a million gallons of water in the wave pool. A fiberglass shark sprays you with cold water as you passively round a corner. And the underwater jets, when you pass them, shoot you forward once again, constantly cycling and recycling (and hopefully filtering) the artificial river’s water.

So much water.

And the day is fun and the kids are splashing and the adults are smiling and the sun is shining and you never ever think the water will run out.

It’s not until the evening comes, when the sun begins to set and the air begins to cool that you realize, soon, the water will be gone. First the water turns cold and then so do you; it’s cold in the water and colder when you get out. The waves in the wave pool slow and the teenage lifeguards sit in their tall towers motioning everyone toward the inevitable. The kids ignore their shivers and continue to run from ride to ride in hopes of climbing one more ladder. But not me. My bones are cold. I sit in a chair that calls my name as the sun goes down and the remaining beads of water trickle down my face. I follow one drop with my eyes as it rolls down my finger and drops to the ground below.

It’s gone.

And soon, so are we. Final announcements are made and the lights go dark and there’s nothing left for you at the park. We turn our back on those million and a half gallons of water and start the cold walk out of the park.

And the children beg for one more drop of water and you don’t have the heart to tell them there’s nobody to beg.