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… She pats soddenly, with the flat of her hand, a patty of sand.

… An inner tube overturned in the wave: it knows what’s happened sooner than the rider does.

… The girl extends her thumb far to the right and her pinky far to the left to indicate the length of the biggest fish she’s seen.

… Inner tubes: the first one rises, the second one rises, the first one falls, the third one rises.

… The wave, rising, gathers sun in a concavity.

… The cave, the cave in, the miners diving in and out of it.

… The swagger of mom, the stagger of mom’s sister.

… The wave breaks first to its right, then to its left, and finally down the center — well, what about it? It’s just one of those things that happens with waves.

… Woman’s shoulders snapping back, her chest jutting forward, as her butt is slapped hard by a wave.

… You can’t make out what the boy screams in a thrilled tone above the sound of the surf, but it’s a statement of the obvious, you’re sure, or of what seems to him to be obvious.

… I had never seen quite that smile on my relative’s face before: he is remembering having been a young parent.

… A roll of wave as knotted and complex as the trunk of an old oak tree, its whole life passing in a few seconds. The ocean is nothing but one vast logging camp depositing many such as these onto the flatbed.

… And we are as a crowded shoreline of waves; we bunch up, we outstrip and trip each other up, we collide and form things, ducking and weaving, and disappearing.

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