Your son is unexpectedly up early from bed despite last night’s late night return back to the house. He sees you writing, says he wants to draw nature, takes a sheet of paper, takes a seat at the old wooden table, and begins. Your daughter is still asleep in bed. Yesterday her often wide smiling face showed that she knew she would soon be able to swim. You sit sipping coconut water, thinking of Don Quixote, and Lao Tzu at the gates before he disappeared among the holy trees. Rising, the girl goes off to sleep again on the sea blue couch, as the salt water scented boy draws down the moon with a charcoal pencil.