It was cool and windy, but still plenty warm enough for a trip to the beach.  We had been working too hard for too long, and needed to get away from the city, if just for a morning.

We brought the things we needed:  breakfast tacos, tractors, water, buckets, and a couple of gardening trowels.

Almost as soon as he stepped into the sand, David brought out the heavy machinery

and got to work until he realized the rest of the family was setting up a little further down the beach.

Arriving the day after a cold front blew in, we made some good finds.  We found the remainders of crabs that had been caught

and dissected

by hungry beaks.

In the sand we found glitter

and material enough for several buildings.

Then the wet sand became our journals.  David drew a picture first.  “Look what I drew!” he exclaimed.  “What is it?”

We wrote and traced love notes to our favorite beings.

We rolled in the sand and took rides in the wagon.

We lowered ourselves over the rocks of the jetty to pet hermit crabs and seaweed, and found a garden in a piece of driftwood.  Then, with the sun high, we drove home, already thinking about when we might be back.