Every night we go out to the beach, trying to make our presence as discreet as possible. We carry no cameras, no phones, no ipods; nothing electronic except red-lighted torches we don’t use and maybe a watch.
And yet, we are betrayed by our footsteps: they fill with foam from breaking waves and glow when the rest of the water has receded—lighting up the telltale signs of where we’ve been.
