In the carefree eyes of a bush kid, it is supposed to be nearing the end of another epic Christmas holiday break, where their energy levels peak as they realise it is only a few sleeps until it is gone for another year.
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But on the streets of Kendall, the little mid-north coast town on the banks of the Camden Haven River, there is something not quite right.
The streets where the kids used to tear down on their bikes and billy carts are empty. The parks where the footy and cricket balls used to fly is peaceful.
The only place heaving is the town's swimming pool, where two parties are in full swing and tiny bodies are flinging themselves into the water.
But all of them were driven there by cautious parents.
The fabric of Kendall has changed since the wanna-be little Spiderman, William Tyrell, mysteriously disappeared four months ago.
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"While I refuse to live in fear, I will not let the kids walk to certain places," Iona Bligh said.
Ms Bligh is sitting on a park bench with a group of other local women at the same time police are searching a man's home a little further up the coast on Wednesday.
Many didn't know each other, or at least were not good friends, before young William went missing.
But they are inseparable now.
They have bonded into a will-do band of organisers who have constantly tried to keep the news out there that William is missing.
Many turned up the first day William was gone, some walking through the bush with other volunteers while others cooked for the burgeoning search parties.
They continue for nine days before the search was called off, called a meeting of their own at the local cafe and decided they needed to keep looking.
"None of us have been wanting to let it go, to let him go," Ms Bligh said.
"Our town has not forgotten, he is one of ours now.
"He is part of the family."
So much so that there was a little touch of William in many homes across Kendall at Christmas.
Some even had Spiderman adornments on their trees.
But the spirit was lacking.
"Christmas Day was very solemn," Ms Bligh said.
Even while having Christmas lunch with my [four-year-old] daughter, she turned and said: "Would William be having lunch with his mummy?"
"I said probably not, darling, and she replied: "Is he dead?'."
The fabric has changed.
It changed when the bus routes were tinkered so kids walked less to get home.
It changed with parents not allowing their children to walk home from class.
And it changed at the school itself, where kids were not allowed to go to the toilet on their own.
Ever.
"I think there is a black cloud hanging over the town and it will remain until we have some type of closure."
Then there was the news on Tuesday night that police had raided a house and an office block nearby.
Some felt their hearts sink, others felt that the hope increase that police may, at some stage, find the answers to their questions.
"I had a bit of elation when I heard the news," Ms Bligh said.
"Elation that we might finally have something.
"I have cried a million tears and you just felt a bit of hope. That it was a clue.
Friend Karlee Butler added: "Good or bad we needs some closure for the family, and some closure for us.
Sandree Peterson spent days in the kitchen keeping the searchers' hungers at bay, and now she wants to hear the laughter of children again around her town.
"This time of year the park is supposed to be full of kids playing football or cricket, but it is still empty," she says, shaking her head.
"That is what this thing has done to us."
