The Prettiest Piece

Gazing down the stretch of the vast and sandy shore, I pulled in a long refreshing breath of the Pacific Northwest breeze. The oxygen filled my lungs and sent brilliant pulses from my brain to the tiniest nerve endings on the bottom of my dirtied feet.

I walked heavily for miles over thousands of crustacean shore dwellers and sunlit sand-dollars. I carried an old sack I had found a couple hundred yards back. I slowly filled it with extravagantly simple pieces of rocks and shells. These pieces were beautiful. Every one of them delicately designed with erosion etched patterns each with their own solar painting and coloring. They were the jewelry of the gods. As I wandered, I could only wonder of the magnificence of each. Who could possibly spend so much time creating all of these masterpieces?

I gathered as many as I could carry even with the hole in the bag I tried earlier to tie shut with a long piece of seaweed. There were thousands to choose from. It was nearly impossible not to step on them as I walked. My heart broke each instance I had to step over or on top of one to reach another I saw shimmering in the distance. They were gorgeous and held characteristics I could never dream of carrying myself. To choose the most perfect of them was a chore no one should attempt conquer. I felt as though I were too choosy by passing up such wonderful creations but my bag held its own limitations.

As my collection reached the brim of the bag and even began to overflow back onto the sand, I climbed up one of the nearby sand dunes and onto the fishing dock. I passed withered old fishermen, families enjoying picnics, and seagulls flying overhead. I found a spot near the far edge of the dock next to an older man enjoying an afternoon pipe. I nodded in his direction and sat down impatiently waiting my cherished findings.

I emptied the contents of the bag onto the wood paneling in front of my crossed legs. They poured out like the water they came from. These were the most magnificent of the beach. They were the ones that caught my eye. They held an importance higher than the rest for they carried my most favorite characteristics of color, shape, and size. Lying on the wood they seemed to shimmer like gold and silver. They were in fact a treasure.

I decided to try and pick out the most perfect piece. Seeing they were all so incredible, I figured finding one of supreme value would be simple. I began my search. I picked up the first piece and examined it thoroughly. The patterns on the sides were incredibly detailed and its color held a distinct flavor that resonated perfectly in my young soul. How could it be that on first try I had found the paramount piece? I looked out into the ocean and thanked it for showing me its beauty. After enjoying the awe of this piece I began to wonder about the rest. So I set the great one behind me to save and picked up the next piece closest to my right bare foot. I examined it critically with almost an animosity most undeserved. But I could not help but be completely blown away by the beauty of this new piece. It seemed to be just as impeccable as the former with possibly a few more exceptional qualities. I sat in awe at finding yet another immaculate piece and after only two!

Now with great confusion I began to inspect each and every piece. Still each held qualities superior to the previous. My amazement was wild. My cheekbones ached from my stretched smile. I uncrossed my legs and pulled the pile in close to my inner thighs so the sun reflected the colors onto my bare chest. Reds and blues and yellows and greens all shimmered on my sandy skin. I looked out once more to thank the sender for these precious gifts.

My eyes began to water. I couldn’t pick just one, they were all incredible! Not only this, but I didn’t deserve them! They were not mine. I found them and figured they were mine to take, but they were the shores’. How could I have been so inconsiderate? How could I have stepped on so many to take only a handful for my own pleasure?

Just then, the man smoking the pipe let out a tremendous cough. It startled me so much so that the neat pile of shells and rocks I had built was disrupted by my frightened legs.

“Are you ok?” I said.

“Sir?” I continued after not receiving a response from the old man now staring at my disrupted pile.

After taking a puff and then exhaling he responded with smoke pouring out from beneath his bearded face, “You wanna know somethin?”

“Um…sure….yeah….yes sir! Sure, I would love to know a lot of things!” I finally stammered with a short uncomfortable chuckle at the end.

He stared at me for what seemed to be a lifetime with deep, penetrating eyes surrounded by rough and aged skin. He took another puff on his pipe and exhaled slow and long.

“The treasure you’ve found is only precious because of the ocean that brought it to you.” He looked back out into the vast blue stretching farther than any eye could see.

I looked down at my treasure and suddenly knew what had to be done.

I gathered the rocks, stones, and broken pieces of crab shells, shoveled them back into my makeshift treasure box, and stood up to walk back to the opening of the dock. I jumped down the sand dunes and ran to the edge of the water. I grabbed the biggest handful of the treasure I could handle and with great freedom heaved it back out into the blue. Each handful brought me more freedom from anything and everything wrestling in my heart. They fell into the water like raindrops, each sinking deep down back to their home on the ocean floor.

When the bag was empty I felt as though I had been set almost completely free from all of my longings. I was nothing but a shore dweller standing alongside my brothers and sisters waiting to be thrown back into the sea.

I dropped the bag down behind my feet. I dusted my pants and chest off.

And I ran back into the waves.