These are pictures of my children. Pictures of “still kids, ” but “almost” teenagers. They are no longer babies, but they have not yet reached adolescence.
There was a red boat they used to climb on every summer when they came to grandma’s house by the sea, year after year.
Endless fields in the fog.
Freedom from school and assignments, freedom from the big city, freedom from convention. Summertime is a whole other life. Every summer is a certain stage of maturation. I noticed that after these vacations, my children returned home changed.