The lake was calm, except for our speedboat with you and your noisy brothers in tow. You requested more chips, then scoffed at my expected Eat-some-more-grapes-first reply.

“Is it time to swim yet?” you asked.

“We’re heading to the swimming hole now,” Daddy answered.

In the glare of late-day sun, I noticed something on the water ahead. Squinting, shielding my eyes, I called to your father to slow down.

“What is it? he asked.

“I can’t tell – some kind of birds.”

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