I step off the boat onto the wobbly lower dock. I take my sunglasses off my head and put them over my eyes so the glare from the sun off the water is slightly bearable. I walk up the ramp, steep because of the low tide. It’s windy down here. I make note of things, the house on the point, the red railings, Snake Island, the red row boats and canoes. Everything is quiet for a moment as I remember. Then reality snaps back as I hear the kids behind me calling out my name, but that doesn’t matter. I’m home again for the first time since last summer.