“They are,” she said. “And they serve their purpose well.”

“Which is?”

“Eating the dry grasses. Keeping away the brush.” She opened the gate. “We keep this closed so that they don’t run off.”

“Nick told me.”

“Good old Nick. Of course he did. I thought I’d take you to the ocean so you know the best route.”

“I didn’t realize we could walk.”

“We’re very close. The trail isn’t marked, though, so you need to know where you’re headed.”

We followed the rest of the path out to the highway, and Julia pointed out the trees and shrubs and taught me their names. “The little ones can remind you if you forget. Quiz them. It’s part of the curriculum we developed for the preschool. People need to know where they fit in in the world. The first part of that relies on understanding what’s around them. So we give them the language and let them explore. The intern we had before Billy didn’t care much for nature, so we were glad when we found Billy last year. He spent a lot of time camping before his parents died. They were real adventurers—rock-climbing expeditions, backpacking trips—they taught him so much about nature that we barely had to fill him in on anything.”

We reached the highway. “Cars come by very fast,” she said. “So, when you’re walking with the children be sure to take their hands and go quickly. One moment there can be no sign of a car and then, before you know it, one is coming right at you.” We crossed and walked for no more than a couple minutes before the path ended and the rocks dropped straight off.

We were standing at the edge of a bluff, looking down at the ocean. I felt my knees go weak and it surprised me. I hadn’t known there were new fears to discover.

She must have noticed how I felt, because she linked her arm through mine. Her thick wool sleeve made my cheap cotton sweater seem inadequate. I told her so, and she said, “We have lots of extra clothes in the house. Try the upstairs closets when you need anything. We have shoes in all sizes and jackets and sweaters and scarves and hats and other accessories. Also board games, supplies for bird-watching and foraging. Even some old posters and framed artwork if you want to decorate your cabin. Really, anything you can think of. Now, let’s head down.”

We walked along the bluff until it met a trail that was partially obscured by an ancient madrone tree, and there we began the descent. It was steep and rocky, but before long we were on the sand. Seagulls flew overhead. In the distance, a few people surfed.

“Do you swim?”

“Yes,” I said. “I mean, I know how to swim if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Do you do it well?”