The Beachcomber

Just after dawn, with the sun still low on the horizon, a lone woman searches the shoreline. Her outstretched arms clutch a metal detector as its base moves side to side over the sand. Slowly, she systematically scours the sand for the flotsam and jetsam of long gone beachgoers. Soon they would be back, with their loose change and loose jewelry in tow, but for now the beach belonged to the beachcomber.

As the sun quickly rose to shine its sun-burnt face above the sea, I watched the woman’s fruitless quest. Back and forth the detector swayed, discovering nothing.

Get your head out of the sand, I thought. Look to the sea and the sun rising above it – there is your treasure!

I stood up from my perch on the boardwalk overlook and went on my way, discovering that I too had let the sunrise slip before my very eyes.


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