Place Where You Live:

Wells Beach, Wells, Maine

Rainbow Sand

I have always had sea water flowing through my veins. I have always felt the ocean’s undertow beckoning me toward her. Sitting on the beach has always brought me solace, just like a hug from your mom. Today I am back home. I sit down on my warm sand bed and watch the sapphire waves crash. It is just me and a few gulls who the wind gets to tease today. He tickles our hair and feathers like he wants us to play a game of “Tag.” I dig my feet further into the sand so it squishes between my toes. As the small grains roll off my feet I stare at it inquisitively. How have I never noticed the beauty in sand until now?

My sand is a rainbow. Dandelion, hazelnut, granola, and goldfish colored grains. Crystal clear and onyx granules. Screaming blue and alabaster white shells. These shades make up my rainbow. I feel bad for never noticing the sand’s beauty until now. I pick it up in my hands because it deserves better than to only be touched by my feet. I feel the history in each grain, and wonder how each piece got to be here. The sand falls through my fingers like passing time. I can’t help but to think that this is time travel.

Each granule of sand has a history; it has a story. One feldspar grain has seen the Wabanaki fishermen. A periwinkle shell once battled a crab bravely. Crashing waves and clumsy seagull feet took their toll on the sand, but its history lives on.
The rainbow sand can tell us so much about humanity if we listen. Imagine the miles it has traveled, the years it has lived, and the people it has inspired. The rainbow sand has stories desperate to be told.

I dip my toes in the shocking comfort of the salt water. I spy some grains being carried off my feet by hungry waves. Wherever they end up, I hope my rainbow sand brings its wisdom to the next person it touches.