I’m not so brave as to enter their tangled web. Only they know which threads are sticky and which are not.

Wooden paths and bridges lead to trout pools lovingly tended by ghosts. A thick layer of moss covers every surface, absorbing our words and footfalls. In a neighboring yard, a woman hangs her laundry on the line. We float past her unnoticed.

I water my garden every morning. When I’m finished, I sit on my front steps, tuck my hands between my knees for warmth, and listen. The water makes a crackling noise as it seeps into the concrete at my feet. If the windows of the passing cars are open, which they often are, I can make out the wax and wane of NPR or Coldplay or Taylor Swift, or an ad for a car dealership in the city. Through the open door behind me I hear the kids crunching their cereal in the dining room. They both sing wordless, keening little kid songs between bites. I close my eyes and memorize the sounds.

It’s very strange to see my name in a magazine. But I’m not complaining.

The succulents on our front steps look so beautiful after the rain.

Tomorrow evening, the kids and I will be at John’s grandmother’s place, watching the sun set over **the** **bay**. This is probably the last summer we’ll be able to spend time at the beach house: John’s grandmother passed away in December and the house most likely will be sold at the end of the season. Ten random traditions we’ll be observing over the next ten days: :: **Morning coffee** on the dock :: Saying **goodbye to the sun** on the dock :: Midnight visits to the dock (can you tell we like the dock?) :: A large pie with onions, sweet peppers and mushrooms from ***Nicola Pizza*** in Rehoboth :: **Fisher’s caramel corn** in Bethany (can you tell we like to eat?) :: Book browsing at **Bethany Beach Books **:: Letterboxing at **James Farm**, which is within walking distance of the house via road or squishy bay bottom at low-tide :: $1 toy shopping at ***Fun For All*** in Rehoboth :: Clamming at low tide, followed by our famous clams casino (again with the eating) :: Wading to the far shore of the cove to hunt for dessicated baby horseshoe crabs (not for eating) ...