The forest light seems particularly pure this morning. It confuses my old digital camera and sometimes, even my eyes. It turns strands of spider webs into strings of prisms. Light and birdsong are the only things keeping us in the woods. Normally, Aki and I would have reached the beach by now, where we might see arriving humpback whales or orcas chasing incoming king salmon. 

            The tips of fragile ferns have already unfurled, marking the end of spring. While Aki reads her pee mail, I check the blue berry bushes for blossoms. We and the bears will have to look elsewhere for our berries this year. 

            When we finally reach the beach, it seems empty except for kids carry white plastic buckets. With rubber boots on their feet, they splash through the shallows, bent over, looking for shells or memories.