Deserving

The shell caught my eye the first time I came out of the water this morning. I should've picked it up then, but we'd already grabbed my seashore loot.

You see, every time I go to the beach, I grab a shell. An old habit. To store memories. To have something to gather and hold onto. I only pick up the one that catches my eye. It doesn't matter if they're damaged. I just know.

You see, I live less than 10 minutes from the beach, but don't get there as often as I should. Spending time on the water rejuvinates me. I like to remember that. This weekend brought me two shells.

I saw this one I left behind in the heavy, wet sand and kept walking. Minutes later, children came hunting with their excitement and giggles. I'd like to think they found that shell.

The second time I came out of the water, chest heaving from a full-out ocean sprint, I glanced down to see if it was there. It wasn't. And that made me a little sad. But I'd like to think they found that shell. And that it made them happy.


Photo by Elena Segatini from Corbis