There were the shadows and solid bodies of people up and down the shoreline, half-lit in the night: supernatural. Children’s voices called across the water with squeals resonant with such wholesome and utter delight that I could imagine the echoes were what heaven sounded like in the middle of the day. Sadie stood next to me, and in words wrapped in laughter, she explained how to gig the flounder and then net the crabs crawling at my feet. We had an Igloo cooler behind us, denting the marshy sand with its weight.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“All of them—the shrimp, the flounder, the crabs—they’re all coming up for air. Somehow, for reasons that take a scientist to explain, the oxygen level at the bottom drops too low and everything rushes to the surface.”

My eyes adjusted and I saw a sacrifice of the sea in such abundance that I was sure I was fantasizing. The flounder swam over one another, almost seeming to creep up the pilings of the dock. The crabs scurried toward the shoreline, three deep in places. The shrimp were translucent in their panicked rise to the surface. Each creature was in total disregard for the others. They, each and every one, were fighting for oxygen and attempting to leave their life-giving bay to do so.

“All they’re trying to do is come up for air,” I said. “Poor things, they’re in a panic.”

Sadie whispered into the night, “Come on. Let’s get this thing started. Only take as much as Birdie can eat and freeze, only to the top of that cooler.”

“You know,” I said, “when we were driving in from Mobile, I noticed that some of the businesses were called Jubilee this or that. I get it now.” I stood still and quiet.

Sadie poked me. “Come on, girlfriend, why’re you just standing there?”

“I don’t get this … .”

“It’s overwhelming until you let yourself fall into it. It’s nature’s gift. It’s not something you have to understand, silly. Get moving. We don’t know when it’ll be over or when we’ll have another. You have to grab it when you have it.”

I waded deeper into the water and watched this miracle: fish coming to the surface, ready to be trapped. The flounder’s scales reflected the scattered flashlights; the laughter and “camaraderie” of strangers echoed across the water. There was no competition because there was enough for everyone. There was more than enough. Even the crowd at the water’s edge could never catch or hold what came to the surface.