Some people carry the beach in their bones. My friend Cherie is one of them. And if you’ve ever closed your eyes in the middle of a stressful day and pictured the ocean just to steady your breath, you’re going to understand her work instantly.

Tucked between expired coupons and forgotten receipts? Memories. Photos of my children on trips to see their great-grandparents in West Virginia. Faded snapshots of my own childhood. I’ve written before about my grandparents—hardy mountain folk shaped by the Great Depression. They didn’t waste a thing, especially not food, and certainly not money on things they could grow or raise themselves.