We woke early to the sound of crashing waves and walked down the little path to the vacant beach, just you and me. You were transfixed by the birds, the waves, the infinite sand to sift between your fingers and scoop into your mouth. When you wanted to play in the water I stripped you naked and let you sit just where the tide came in and splash in the incoming waves and watch bemusedly as they pulled back away from you into the sea. After the sun had fully risen we drove out in search of coffee and breakfast with Grandpapa. He bought you a pastry at the French patisserie. Back at the condo we staked out our spot on the beach and you were happy most all of the day to simply sit in the sand and push it around with your hands and feet, or to sit in the waves and laugh whenever a big one hit you square in the face. In the evening we walked the beach and saw the sun set, the big, fat full moon rise. You played with Grandpapa's hat. I carried you and you fell asleep, sand still clinging to your sun-warmed face. 

August 27, 2015