I’m doing that thing where you try and look normal but also scanning all areas of the sidewalk back to our campsite. I’m certain this results in my looking desperately suspicious. I’m both relieved and panicked that I’m halfway back and haven’t found it. My underwear and the ground are remarkably similar colors so I wonder if I should double back to see if it is camouflaged in the sand.

I can actually listen to the wisest voice of all. The one inside of me. She gets a whole lot louder when she's not drowned out by dishes in the sink. Even if I actually like those dishes. Even if I love them, their management still distracts me from the real work of being alive.

In these few moments I get to see him in his purest form. I am grateful. I am heartbroken. I want it to last. I know it won’t. The fact that it’s fleeting is what made me pause and notice. The truth is that there aren’t many people who will get to experience him like this.

They don’t even hesitate when they get to the water’s edge. Clothes and all they splash in knee-deep. I see their faces and it is rare it’s a rare kind of joy. They are laughing. They are whooping. They are splashing each other. They are smiling. They are wet and don’t care. They are sandy and don’t mind.