. . . the wildness in the way she ran about on the sand, unfettered and free. This girl is a marvel, a joy to watch where she’s normally so quiet. Everything she saw, everything she touched was new. No matter how many times her eyes had seen a wave crashing down into white foam, or her small hands had dug deep into the golden sand then, or at anytime in the past… it was all new.
All of it.
I wish I could be like her again.
I wish I was free.