Yesterday was a beautiful summer day here in New England. We had nothing on the schedule, the boys all slept in, and the afternoon was spread out before us. The beach seemed an obvious choice, so we suited up and gathered our things and, as usual, tried to solicit some friends to come along or meet us there. It is prime day camp season and most of the boys' friends are gone all day so it ended up being just the four of us.
I cannot remember the last time that just the four of us went to the beach together. These are the simple, unplanned moments that are easy to take for granted, but today I savored it. I watched them squeal when the big waves came in and I saw them look for each other after the waves passed by. They were smiling, laughing, and high-fiving each other. They built Sauron's Tower at the edge of the water and had sword fights with their whiffle ball bats up away from the crowds. We ate and talked and rested and swam together some more.
I loved having my boys to myself at the beach. I loved being together with them and watching them be with just each other. My oldest turns twelve next week and I wonder how much longer he will be content with this kind of a day. I know I could never get sick of it.