It is the day of lasts. Last waking at 5:00 to the quiet house; last walk to the morning beach, last morning swim in the surf. My friend and I are careless as we drop our bags on the sand, we are so hot, we swim as we’re talking so much we realize we are over our heads in the surf and there is a current, and we get back to shore, get our bearings, and have to guess where our belongings are, we have drifted. Soon we find them, head back. Last poke bowls, last late afternoon sunset swim at the beach in the orange and lilac. I am not sad; I am saturated. This trip has filled me to the brim. We play in the surf. We watch the sun go. We are silhouettes. We pile in the car, grab food to go. A last casual meal, a last outdoor shower. The whole day, a Valentine to Nosara.