The day we packed up was bittersweet. I walked the pond one last time before dawn, listened to bullfrogs, watched wading birds, and inhaled salty air. The kids packed their shells, photos, and new friends’ phone numbers. My parents swapped hugs with neighbors. Luna lay lethargic from excitement.
Before leaving, we joined the resort’s “farewell breakfast” in the clubhouse, exchanged contact info, and promised to return. I realized we’d built memories — shared laughter, new routines, small rituals — not just a vacation.
As we pulled away, I looked back at concrete pads, clubhouse silhouette, ponds glinting. We already started planning next year’s route.