Went for a walk on the beach just before midnight on a whim. Couldn't sleep — that soft jet-lag kind of awake where your body thinks it's three in the afternoon. Slipped on flip-flops, walked two blocks, kicked them off at the edge of the sand.

It was still warm. That was the surprise. The sun had been down for five hours but the sand held onto the day like a stone in a pocket. You sink in a little and it comes up through your feet, and there's this very specific feeling of being the only person who knows about it.

There were maybe three other people in the whole stretch I could see. A couple sitting way down by the water, not talking, just watching. A guy with a dog. That's it. Otherwise, waves, and a few stars pushing through a thin layer of clouds — not a dramatic sky, just enough to remind you it's still up there.

Walked maybe a mile down and a mile back. Didn't check the time. One of those spontaneous things that ends up being the highlight of the trip, and I already know I'll be the guy telling other people to do it when they ask me what to do in Hawaii.