On a Wednesday

As a family, we don't do theme parks, or plane rides.

But when you decide to haul a bunch of kids, a couple friends and your ever faithful dog into the old RV to spend the remainder of your mid week afternoon on the sand till sunset, settling under a dark Spring sky lit by a white glowing moon and a fire with your sun drenched boys piled beside you in that little teepee roasting marshmallows while you sleep, and one of them wakes you to inform you that this day, was in fact "the best day ever" - you hold your heart and take note. On how simply they are pleased by the way these kinds of hours paint their day. On just how magical a sporadic night on an empty beach with your family and friends mid way through an otherwise uneventful week must feel.
When you are eight.
Or Five
or four.
Or, 34.

For Mike and I, it was the best beach day on the sand we've had in quite awhile.
For Arlo,  though "the best" yet.

And here, Kevin's photo probably tells the warmest story of us all.