As the car pulled around the corner, I admired the view.  We were surrounded on all sides by tall graceful trees that looked as though their branches were slowly melting toward the ground.  The ground was covered in sand and patchy layers of grass.  Beyond the trees, I could see the bright sun hues mingling with the reflections on the water of the salt marsh.  It looked beautiful.   

I turned to the place where we would be staying.  It looked like a nice house ? that is until I learned that the expansive bottom floor was actually a garage.  The living quarters were confined to a small space above that could only be accessed by a steep, winding staircase.  The building as a whole was covered in soft shell-colored wood panels.  There were large windows that looked out across the marsh.  Flanking the windows was a little balcony/deck that nestled itself in among the tree branches.  I could tell already that that would be where my dad spent most of his time. 

“We're here!” my mom declared.  She poked her head around the side of the passenger seat to face me and the dogs in the back seat.  “Isn't it gorgeous?!” she asked. 

I nodded.  I wasn't completely convinced.  I mean, sure, it was pretty and all, but I wasn't sure that the trip was going to be fun for me.  I had friends back home and things I could be doing rather than being stuck with my parents on the Cape. 

“Alright,” my mom said with a twinkle in her eye, “Let’s go check it out.”  She had a way of speaking that made it sound like each phrase had a melody.  It was a tone that only emerged sometimes.  Only when she was at her happiest.  Only during the summer. 

My mom stepped out of the car and came around to let the dogs out.  I grabbed a hold of my many cumbersome bags and suitcases and dragged them out of the car.  I hated packing light.  The dogs were clearly the most excited out of all of us.  After all, they had been stuck in a hot car for about three hours listening to my dad croon along with the Adele CD he got himself for his birthday.  We tossed our bags down at the foot of the staircase and ran down to the water.  The cool ocean breeze had followed the tide all the way into the guarded little mire.  It was more of a river than anything.  Winding waterways meandered their way through tall patches of grass and came together to form a little beach area at the base of the flood walls.  My mother and I abandoned our shoes without question and jumped down onto the sand.  I could see the small holes where little crabs had made themselves at home.  I stuck my toes in my toes in the water and wiggled them around a bit. 

“Oof! It’s cold!” my mother exclaimed.  She was already knee deep. 

“Jilly, come on!  We should change into our swim stuff first,” my father called down as he finished unloading the car. 

“Alright,” my mother yelled.  She withdrew from the water and walked back up to the car, beckoning for me to follow. 

After spending far too long struggling to haul our luggage up the stairs, we finally made it inside.  I was immediately disappointed to learn that I would be sleeping on a couch.  And not only was the couch uncomfortable, but it was also directly next to the little kitchen area.  I could look forward to waking up to the crash of pots and pans every morning for a week.  It took a little while for my parents to get settled and I spent that time complaining to my friends over text.  I thought it was important that they know the dreadful living conditions I was being exposed to. 

At dinner, I barely even poked at my meal.  My parents could tell something was up, but they avoided bringing it up.  My dad just stared uncomfortably at the painting of a giant fish hanging above the dinner table.  My mother was otherwise preoccupied with a little pamphlet of local activities.  I watched as she turned the page and her eyes grew wide. 
“Guys, guys, GUYS,” she squealed, “We need to try this.”

“What?” I said, pouring a layer of general apathy onto my tone. 

“So there’s this place around the corner where you can bring your inner tubes and swim in with the tide.  They call it floating!”

My father and I shared a look of confusion. 

My mother threw us a playful glare.  “We’re going.  Now,” she decided.   She threw down her napkin and ran down the stairs.  We were close behind her.  We grabbed a few of the inner tubes that the landlord had available and set out.  

The path was worn, and the sun-soaked sand soothed my bare feet.  After a couple of minutes, we arrived at a little beach that was sheltered by a large tree.  The dogs ran straight past us and threw themselves into the water.  I was a little more cautious.  I carefully stuck my foot below the surface.  The water was cold, but refreshing.  It was a welcome change from the throbbing heat of the sun.  I waded in up to my waist and then jumped in.  I grabbed a hold of the tube and hoisted myself up so I was lying on my back. 

“Ready? Go!” my mother yelled as she pushed me off the shore. 

I laughed.  I could see the maze of green reeds passing by me and I started to get dizzy.  I shut my eyes to appreciate the moment.  I felt myself whirl past the stretches of sandy beach and out into the open area of the marsh.  My tube rocked back and forth gently and slowed down until it was barely inching along with the breath of the tide pressing it onward.  I could hear the sound of water lapping against me and birds calling from a distance.  The sun was setting now and I could feel the last gentle rays caressing my face. 

After what seemed like hours, I felt my feet drag along the bottom of the shore.  I sat up slowly, relishing the cool breeze against my cheeks.  My eyes drifted across the landscape.  It looked like something out of National Geographic ? almost too good to be true.  Far off in the distance, I could see the harbor in all its glory.  Its blinking lights and colorful sails stood out against the deep cerulean sky.  Nearby, I could see a lone cormorant darting through the channels between the reeds.  And over around the corner, a family of floaters was just splashing their way into the water. 

I looked over at my parents.  They were lying completely still.  Completely oblivious to the world around them.  They were just breathing in the still beauty of the moment; savoring every second. 

“Well...that was fun,” my mother sighed. 

I nodded with a smile.  Maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be so bad after all.