Treasure Hunting

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I walk for miles at a time.

Searching.

Shoulders arched. Head facing down.

The sand below my feet is firm.

The sun warms my back. 

The cool breeze is refreshing.

My toes become alive when they make contact with the frigid water.

Ebbs and flows.

Laughter, conversations, yelling spoil the tranquility of the roaring waves.

Yet my ears are able to tune into each crash.

Time to turn around.

I adjust my route and move closer to the tide line.

The sun warms my front.

I am thankful for the visor on my cap.

My course is altered. 

Children are digging, playing, learning, living.

I smile.

I go around them.

My eye spies something.

Could it be what I have been looking for?

I pick it up.

I hold it up to the sunlight.

It is not ready.

I toss it into the sea where it belongs.

There must be more I think.

So I continue with my quest.

I walk on.

Determined. 

Then I see it glistening in the sand.

Blue, cloudy, smooth.  Aged to perfection. A keeper.

Litter crafted into a gem.

It is my favorite treasure.

Sea Glass.

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