I’ve been out the door before 7am for the past week – Percy pyjama-clad in his pram, me walking and thinking and sweating. It makes for productive and creative days.

We’re in the thick of summer right now; mornings at the beach, an abundance of stone fruit and watermelon, beach towels that don’t quite dry before they’re needed again. There’s an inflatable crocodile in the backyard that spurts water down a slide, salt in our hair, sand in our beds and, come dusk, cicada song – shrill and nostalgic.

There’s only a couple of weeks left of holidays before we are back into the swing of school routine. But summer will linger for a good few months yet and I intend to savour it – even when the house is sweating and the mosquitos are biting.

I can’t help but think that all these swimming, sweating, fruit-salad eating days are what the best childhood memories are made of. Percy won’t remember the amount of sand he ate or his first taste of mango but he may, just may, remember the bliss that is falling asleep on the sand, the ocean singing in the background.