Late Saturday morning we headed down to Muir Beach--stopping by Hog Island for a couple dozen oysters--for a picnic. Not just any picnic: the annual multiple-birthday picnic with many of my dearest friends from college, a Muir Beach tradition since 1989. The picnic area keeps shrinking, but year after year the picnic goes on. People have kids; kids get older; there are more kids. There are Flintstones-sized ribs, awesome potato salad, gooey caramel chocolate cake, assorted fabulous derves, and (this year) Hog Island oysters. And, of course, catching up with old friends.
After the gorge-til-you-stagger portion of the festivities, we all relocate to the beach part of Muir Beach to enjoy the waning hours of the day. These industrious children shoring up the doomed battlements of their mighty fortress are the progeny of our friends, enjoying a lovely afternoon at the beach.