Nights were spent in a tent in the piney grove at Tom’s Cove campground.
Days riding through the salt marshes of Assateague Island, looking for wild ponies, egrets (which our son insisted on calling cranes), and fiddler crabs.
Racing the ocean until it finally caught us with icy fingers of Atlantic foam.
Washing the baby in a tub on the picnic table with water heated over the stove. Chatting about fishing and crabbing and camping with our neighbors over the fence.
Eating ice cream and seafood and salt water taffy till we longed for regular peanut butter and jelly.
And of course, getting sand between our toes.