The sea, an indifferent collaborator, supplied sound and spectacle. A flock of gulls wheeled through the sky like swift notes in a living score. Occasionally, a wave would arrive with more gusto than expected, flattening a carefully staged prop; then the family would laugh and improvise, transforming the mishap into part of the show. It was in those moments — when plans met the natural world and bent — that the pageant revealed its truest shape: an adaptive, imperfect ritual of togetherness.
