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.”