One of the gifts of having a child is seeing the world through their eyes.

Not long after Zoe started talking in full sentences, we were driving down the sweep of Coxes Bay, a little glimpse of harbour between two suburbs. The tide was out, the sun reflecting off the shiny mudflats as the yachts lolled to one side on their keels.

“The boats aren’t swimming today,” Zoe observed.

To this day, every time I drive through Coxes Bay, I note whether or not the boats are swimming, and think of Zoe, and the world through her eyes.