“It won’t be a problem.” He lifted the cane and gestured to the round disk attached to the bottom tip. “This keeps me steady when I’m walking on sand.”

She reached up and adjusted the brim of her hat, then pulled out the extra clipboard from her backpack. “We can start with this.” Ignoring the wobble in her voice, she handed him the clipboard and a pen and gestured to the top of the page. “You’ll want to fill this out first, before you get started on the surveys.”

He kept his gaze on her a beat, then propped his cane up against the chair and took the board and pen from her. She waited while he filled in his name, date, and location. “For wind, precipitation, and cloud cover, you don’t have to be too specific. Light winds, no precipitation, clear skies.”

He made the notes, then looked up at her, a question in his eyes. Most people would stop to catch up on the intervening years before getting to work, but she’d long ago built a wall between her and her memories of him. She tried to keep it strong, but it occasionally cracked and the memories seeped through. More so lately than ever before.

She took the clipboard from him and clicked the pen closed. “A basic knowledge of coastal birds is helpful for this sort of thing.” She had to ask, though she already knew the answer. “Are you familiar with birds along the shore?”

He stilled and stared at her, and in that moment, she saw him as he once was—the crisp blue uniform, close-cropped hair, and smooth, sharp jaw.

“I am.”

She held his gaze as long as she could, then pointed to the west. “We’ll walk this way first and I’ll explain the process.”

He fell into step beside her, the cane indeed not proving to be a problem, though their gait was slow anyway. That was one of the most important parts of the survey and bird-watching in general: move slowly, pause frequently, keep your eyes open. She’d found it was a good way to go about life, period.

“We take surveys four times a year, in each season, and each volunteer has his or her own one-mile route. Of course, we walk out and back, so it’s two miles total.” She glanced down. His limp was barely perceptible, but it was there. “Is that a problem?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good. So you’ll walk your route once a week for each survey season. As a new trainee you’ll stick with your trainer the whole season before you take a route on your own. It’s sort of like a trial run.”

“So I’ll be accompanying you on this route all summer?”

Violet gave one quick nod. “Those are the rules. Each day you walk the route, you record your findings on the paper. Are your binoculars good?”

He patted the strap around his neck. “They’re good.”

She nodded. “Count every bird you see, even if you can’t identify it. We focus on sandpipers, pelicans, gulls, and terns, but everything’s noteworthy. Flying, floating, walking, it doesn’t matter. If you see a bird, count it and identify it as well as you can. If you can estimate the age, even better.”