The sun’s creeping higher in the sky, but you and Harrison are well prepared.

It’s a short walk to the beach—just down the block to the shore—but it feels like every step is more important than just that.

You and Harrison are taking your son down to the beach, now that he’s old enough to keep his feet on the sand without tipping over.

Harrison has been teaching him little things even before he could walk, how to watch the waves, when to leave the water alone and just watch from the sand, everything he’s grown up on.

It’s been a treat to watch, the light in your son’s eyes bright as Harrison explains to him all the things that he’s learned from a life on the islands.

It’s all a part of that carefree, easy way you and Harrison lead your lives—so much so that your son’s first word was mahalo—and it translates into everything you do.

The sand is warm beneath you, heated by the early light of the sun as the two of you—your son is perched comfortably on Harrison’s hip, tiny, persistent fingers curled into the already-stretching collar of his shirt.

By the time you’re a handful of steps away from the tide, Harrison sets the toddler down on the warm sand, giving him a gentle reminder to “stay close” before letting go.

With slightly uneven steps (sand is still tricky) your son toddles off towards the edge of the sand, his attention immediately caught by a shell in the sand—sharp and clearly broken by the waves.

Before he can get little hands on it, Harrison scoops him back up, but keeps him close so that this can become a new lesson.

“Hey, bud, that shell’s broken.” He starts, tone gentle in that way only he can manage.

“We don’t have to take everything home with us, gotta remember to leave some things behind, okay?”

The little one nods, watching intently as Harrison picks up a piece of driftwood, crouching down to turn the shell over safely, revealing the sharp, jagged edge that could’ve ended in disaster—or, at the very least, tears—before he glances up at you, a wide grin breaking across his face.

“We’ve got plenty of shells back home, don’t we?”