The bay was angry tonight, the lapping waves replaced with crashing surf stretching the water high up on the shoreline. No sooner had the frothy whiteness receded back into the surf then it was once against thrust onto the waiting sand. The kids approached it gingerly, curious about what it contained. Baby E stared comfortably from a distance, unwilling to venture any closer.

The shoreline, normally riddled with shells and stones, had been smoothed over by the rushing water, refusing permission to anything that wanted to stay. Big E was the first to take a running leap into the crashing waves, water splashing as his feet dug into the mud. Not to be outdone by her little brother, C skipped in after him, much to his delight.

They lost interest quickly in the water, though, and instead scoured the beach for crab shells and horseshoe crabs, while Baby E, a stick in his hand, positioned himself on the edge of the water hollering at the waves as they crashed around him.

We stayed until the beach closed, the sun set casting long shadows on the turbulent waters. We cleaned off the sand before piling into the van to come home. We ate a quick dinner and I ushered them upstairs to bed with no complaints. Tonight they were definitely ready.