leo447i
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It would be pretty to think the beach remembers.
And maybe it does. Maybe it recalls the dimples made in the wet sand by childish knees, and the way the sand was shoveled and molded into non-beach shapes, and the bare feet, and the patchwork of towels, and the skittering three-toed tracks made by willets.
It would be pretty to think the beach is keeping this wee sand shovel in case its owner decides to return for it. Or maybe the tide will slide in and sweep it away, and erase all memory of the day some child played on the beach. As if the child was never there. As if no child had ever been there. As if the world was still new and only the willets walked the beach.
It would be pretty to think that too.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
