…Oh, Danish. He’s entering Leap 4, if you’re familiar with @thewonderweeks. Won’t sleep without much convincing, or without me as a pillow. Bet-Lou, his Nana’s cousin-in-law (there’s a lot of fam up here), invested 45 minutes of bouncing him on the beach and was rewarded as Dane finally passed out in her arms.

Bitter smoke, like the smell of resentment, rolled in thick overnight and tints the light a warning amber. We still enjoyed more rock hunting in the creek, Dane snoozing in the carrier on my back. Speckled cubes, sparkling eggs, one russet flagstone that the men refused to heft home; the treasure we left behind.