The writing prompt was clear and simple: “Today, write about an object that magically transports you to a different mood, a different state of mind, or a different time, filling your life with instant wonder, curiosity, or delight.” My response was unequivocal:
When I am freed to walk a stony beach, my heart transforms herself into a fluttering bird. Her wings beat out a simple song against my rib cage, the bony bars of which expand with the gift of incoming ocean air. Tap tap tap, and then she is gone—soaring, a silent gull alone, surveying the riches of smooth, rounded stones that adorn the sand below her.
Further, I am always privileged to be among them, those smooth old stones that have been tossed and rolled and juggled by the ocean and the years. Spending time with these life forms—for they are very much alive— is a form of grace, a vitalizing and soul saving interlude in the midst of the everything else-ness of continuance in this body, in these times.
There is nothing that brings me such pure, unadulterated delight as a chunk of time with the stones, which rest against the sand like diamonds sit in their jewel box , upon velvet.