Emerald of the Sea

Fifteen minutes, that's all I had left of my one hour lunch break. Before the hour even began I had already decided to set aside a portion of it enjoying the edge of the ocean. Today it is calm, clear, blue and green, quietly lapping sand and the boulders placed there as a wave-break and sand retainer. 

I wish I could sit and stay awhile, but knowing I can't, I walk up the shore hoping to find a treasure. I imagine what a thrill it would be to find a long lost misshapen hand forged gold coin, washed up at my feet from a sunken ship. None today. I pick up an almost heart shaped rock but stand it up on its bottom too rounded to be an accurate heart, pushing it into the moist sand so what sticks up still looks like a heart, and walk on. 

With ten minutes left, I see up ahead a small patch of shells on the otherwise sparsely shelled beach, and head to that spot. I should be able to get there, look around and get back to my shoes in ten minutes. 

Fairly ordinary shells, no gold coins, no fabulous rocks, but then, there it is, a lovely half dollar sized triangular shaped sea emerald. Most would probably say it's a piece of glass, but I beg to differ. I see it already set and hanging around my neck, an emerald, a treasure. 

Success has been met so I step back toward my shoes and shuttle awaiting its driver. My co-worker Bob says, I'm surprised you're not at the beach". I grin and open my hand to reveal my find, replying "I just was". He thinks I should sell the things I make, so we discuss briefly how I should do that. I think I should sell these little treasure too, but what he doesn't know is that there is always a story to go along with my creations, a memory of sorts. I get personally attached which makes it difficult sometimes to part with the stuff I make. I hate to see it go. 

This particular find is a bottle bottom. It has a 95 on it. Maybe I should sell the necklace for $95. Maybe the 95 indicates a grade value, right between a 90 and a 100, a solid "A". Maybe it's significance is a year, 1995 is the year my last baby started school. Maybe it's of no significance at all, just a couple of numbers on a sand-ed hunk of green glass.

That could be all it is, but I don't think so. I think I had a fifteen minute gift of life that I used to go on a treasure hunt. And I found a sea emerald.

Yep, that's what I think.

P.J.