Bethany Beach, Delaware, July 24, 2013

★★★★ Under the thinnest filtering clouds, the recycling truck worked its way through the lot, supervised by a crow and the toddler. The brief and deliberate dose of unsunscreened sun did nothing to awaken the melanocytes, dormant or now possibly atrophied from city dwelling. The surf at morning high tide was tinted jade. Around lunchtime, an asymmetric area rug covered the middle of the sky, leaving the tall trees behind the town library deep green and dark. The ocean in the afternoon was mild at the very top, with a thick cold layer moving below. The clouds grew gray but not consolidated. Drops tapped the windshield on the way to the crab place — so few that they needed a wiper fluid to help clear them away. More drops fell in the sun on the way back to the car with a half bushel. The older boy complained that the thermostat out on the deck was set too low for dinner, and that the newspaper was flapping in his face. Beer bottles sweated and a full one foamed over as the hammering shook the table. Kites flew over the roofline of the condos closer to the beach. The gray broke up into a peach-rimmed set of sunset clouds. Out on the boardwalk, the evening air had its own chilly undercurrents. Out in the dark over the sea, lighting flashed once.