The campground is closed for plumbing renovations, so it is empty. Empty of RVs, children, dogs, skateboards, beanbag tossing games, surfboards, jogging moms, strolling couples, the scent of bacon on a grill in the morning and of chicken barbecuing in the evening. But as we walk through, it is easier to notice the little things without the distraction of so much activity. And little these were, and sweet in their brightness, peeking out from the edge of a large rock. They might technically be weeds, for all I know, but they are a very sprightly lemon yellow bit of cheerfulness.