The summertime of our youth is the most wonderful time of life. Endless summers of long sunny days on the beach. Learning how to sail. Running through fields. Playing hide and seek as the sunsets. Playing with dolls and toy trucks. Laying in the hot sand. Diving into the cool ocean. Riding boogie boards and skim boards. Coming home full of beach sand and climbing into the outdoor shower. Reading a book. Talking with friends from all over the country that gather on the island. Cookouts. Picking up crabs and snails. Fishing. Looking for lucky rocks. Getting a favorite flavor at the ice cream shop. Going to the movies at the old Empire Theater. Watching thunderstorms roll in. Visiting Grandma. Going to the beach house for snacks. Bruises and bug bites. Sun drenched hair. Visiting cousins. Going to friends’ houses. Riding bikes. The adults having cocktails as the kids run around the yard.

At the days end, after the cookout, this little girl was tired. The day was burned into her skin. Tired, but still enjoying the company of cousins and siblings. On the dock she stood. Cousins were laying down looking into the water. I took a few photographs. One of the cousins was published in a book, All Our Children. I made the picture of Ruby into a post card because it embodies all it means to be a child of Block Island summer. Time in these summers feel frozen.