The tide goes out past the boats, and the sand is lit

I'm standing on the beach I grew up on, but the tide is pulling out farther than anyone remembers — past the docks, past the boats lying on their sides like resting seals. I walk out over wet sand and the whole bottom is covered in tiny steady lights, not bioluminescence, more like someone left porch lights on down there. I can hear the water sighing somewhere ahead, waiting to come back.