On a water lily dotted inlet of shining Pistakee Lake, shaded by a giant weeping willow, with limbs strong enough to swing from.
In the late afternoon light we played Pirate, with lots of hairbreadth escapes and chases around the treetrunk and happy screams. A gentle attempt at feather-sword-fighting with willow switches ended badly (for Mommy only, thank goodness.) Mia, then Nora, shed her shirt to escape the humidity. We found a corked bottle, got excited about a possible message, found only wet sticks. Daddy arrived with the pizza.
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