“The cure for anything is salt water – sweat, tears, or the sea.” ~ Isak Dinesen
After spending the past year gathering trinkets on the beach, I finally put them all together this morning. Every item has a its own significant story, including the sand:
For hours they had been digging underneath a sweltering sun, scavenging for a crop that clearly wasn’t there. The potatoes had long returned back to the earth in hollow shells of rot underneath the soil, capable of only nourishing the maggots and worms. Everyone knew it was a total loss, yet the forewoman couldn’t pull herself away from the hope that there would be some redemption among the weeds – something to harvest in place of failure.
Two of the laborers paused to straighten their backs.
“Did you ever see the documentary about the lioness who lost one of her cubs?”
“Despite the fact that it had died days ago, she continues to carry it around – sometimes for weeks – as if it were still alive. She simply can not let it go.”
The two turned to glance at the forewoman as the weight of her desperation sunk the steel fork into the ground. With a grunt she began to dig another hole.
© Mayme Snow