The sand is now securely inside the Dyson, no longer in the vehicle seats and floorboards. The bathing suits are fresh and clean, smelling of Gain, no longer stiffened by salt water, hiding sand in every crease. The tender red shoulders have faded to a soft brown. New freckles have emerged on fair-skinned faces.

The beach was what it always is, a familiar friend. Different beach, different sand, different surf, same old friend.

Not goodbye, just so long, for now.