Memorial Day on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Massive grassy field, all ours, with a trail down to the beach that became the most-traveled path of the weekend.
Beach day meant adults taking turns napping—actual naps—while kids played in water and sand. Going down that trail was precarious but nobody hesitated. We ate together. Watched waves. Breathed in a way we hadn't in months. The kids kept trying to sneak into the water, rolling up pant legs, seeing how far they could get before getting soaked, daring each other to go just a little bit further. We kept calling them back. They kept going anyway.
The hot tent made its debut because May nights still get chilly. Kids kept ducking inside to check out the little stove, adults rotating through for warmth. Meanwhile the movie theater went up and the game came on. Everyone found their people. Fire pit conversations that went deep. Soccer on the grass. Kids running the trail loop until we lost count.
At night, we walked down to the beach as one group. Ocean sounds, the kids still trying to dip their toes in one more time, parents calling them back, everyone laughing because we all knew how this would go. Hot tent, movie theater, fire pit, beach—everyone finding their own way to connect and it all just worked. Camp as it comes.