LOST AND FOUND
JEFF CHAMBERLAIN
APRIL 22ND
2012
It was a quarter past seven in the evening, the summer
sunlight barely piercing the sky and its vivid rays blissfully escaping the
arms of the clouds up above. The sand at my feet was cooling down after a hot
day like a freshly baked loaf of bread. With every footstep, I pressed my feet
into the beach below with every grain lightly sifting between my toes. I made
my way closer and closer to a faint dock but the closer I appeared, the closer
it was to night. I obligated myself to find a seashell, a souvenir of some
sort, a memory of the beach, and bring it back with me to my house. After
closely examining several fine-grained shells with intricately designed
patterns, I decided to look even farther for an even better work of natural
sculpture. By this time the sun was just hovering above the ocean’s horizon
with a thin section barely skimming the surface. I continued with my personal
expedition. There were no people or birds for as far as the eye could see. The
wind picked up ahead and the faint mirage of the large, wooden dock in the
distance faded away within the fog. I still made it a point to find that
seashell and venture to the dock.
As I stepped, I always made sure to dig my feet into it in
order to uncover any shells that were unseen. I was getting some better luck
and found about three in a row while walking closer to the evening tide that
was slowly inching nearer to me every time that it moved outward. It persisted
to recede backward the same distance that it went forward. The tide—the Earth’s
visible heart consistently beating throughout the beach.
I paused along a rocky area to see if I could get a lucky
find, when I saw the brightest seashell that I have ever seen—in books and real
life. It was a pale gray color with white, horizontal stripes and metallic flecks
which speckled throughout its outer surface. I carefully navigated my legs
around the uneven rocks and prickly shrubs trying not to injure my foot. I
reached my hand over to grab it but it must have been jammed between two
underlying rocks because it would not become loose. I looked around for another
rock to help release it and attempted to scrape the sand around it to see
anything that would cause it to be stuck. I gave the shell a pull and yet it
still remained stubborn enough to not let go of the ground.
A powerful wind aimed at the whole area where I was standing
and I had to cover my face from a slight gust of sand. I brushed the sand off
of my arms and legs and proceeded to the spot of the shell I wanted. To my
dismay the sand blanketed the entire area and the sky was too dim to have a
clue as to where it had lied. I used my hands to brush random sections of the
area in an attempt to guess its location.
I found a couple of other, paler shells that weren’t it and
was on the brink of giving up and heading home. I made it clear that this was
my goal and that I shouldn’t quit. I made some last minute skims of the surface
sand when I was sure that this hard object was the one I wanted. It was! I made
sure that I didn’t lose the exact place and put a bigger rock upright near it.
Then, I found a flatter and sharper, broken piece of a large shell to dig
around the shell. I made sure I was going to be able to retrieve it this time.
I made a snug grip around the smaller, round end of the shell and pulled with
all of my might and managed to loosen it enough to land me on the ground behind
me. I finally have it right here in my hands. I was relieved. No one will have
this but me now. It’s the most unique thing that I’ve ever found outside that I
can take home with me. I was really shiny, too, I thought to myself. As I tried
to get up off the sandy ground, another even stronger wind gushed from the
ocean air and, when I let go of the shell a second time, I wiped the sand out
of my eyes. When I was done my vision was still a little blurry. I hoped that I
hadn’t lost my shell again. as I regained my sight, I looked down but to my
amazement it was still there. I picked it up and stood upright only to notice a
clever design left in the sand after the wind. I hadn’t seen this before so I
stepped closer. It wasn’t a pattern at all it was some kind of writing in the
sand. Someone must’ve drawn it there before and I hadn’t known. It was written
interestingly neat and was in the form of a sentence.
“ALL
WHO WANDER ARE NOT LOST”
I thought for a minute to ponder this phrase. I thought I
was clever so I added: WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING FOR? I thought that I was being
smart. I put the shell in my pocket and headed towards the dock that I wanted
to photograph. The picture came out really nice and looked almost professional.
I figured that it was anyway. I came back to the spot that had the writing in
the sand and found that I was still there. A great, strong wind skimmed the
area once more and, as I removed the sand from my face the writing was
gone—only to be replaced by something different which read:
“THE BEAUTY, PERHAPS IN THE EYES OF
THE BEHOLDER”
-BY
JEFF CHAMBERLAIN
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