I am trying to remember what we did each day during our vacation in Bellingham, but the days are jumbled together in my mind.

I remember sitting on a picnic table near the water while we ate pastries for breakfast, eating Polish crepes and pierogies at Magdalena’s in Fairhaven and watching a man fly 67—yes, 67—kites all connected at Zuanich Park.

As the novelist Cesare Pavess once said, “We do not remember days—only moments.”