“You were young but old enough at ten for them to leave you to roam the high-line high on the slop of the dunes, picking your way through the storm-gathered drift: Seaweed mostly and brightly painted Styrofoam and balsam-wood buoys--neon-green and orange--some still with their tethers trailing like snakes in the sand behind them; and one still secured to its lobster cage with a bowline-hitch.”