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fortuners · 5 years

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As I Lay in the Sand

Two summers ago, my family and I took a trip down the east coast and spent a day at Myrtle Beach. As the sun kissed the horizon of the vast ocean, I enticed my younger sister, Ray, to make a chair out of the sand with me. The tide was falling and seashells began to peek out of the shore as the soft waves rolled over. I love to pick Atlantic triton, cockle, and clamshells, but I had amassed a fair amount earlier in the day. I put my obsession on hold and Ray and I ran off, our feet sinking in the grains.

Now, my sister and I are master builders (me being better, of course). We lacked buckets and tools but hands were all we needed. We got as close to the shore as the integrity of a sand chair would permit. Seeping our fingers into the ground, we started to shovel the gloop, making a depression to rest our feet in. While we dug, we strategically shaped the excess into the form of a seat and its back. Armrests and cup holders were vital, too. Our spines begged us to stop, creepily reminding us of our inevitable aging, but we were on a laughter high, tossing sloppy wet globs at each other while pretending to be furniture designers. Perhaps the reason we never finished our projects at the beach was that the process of creating them was more enjoyable than the result. Nevertheless, when my mother asked if we were ready to go, Ray and I chimed “no” in unison. We were nearing the end, and as nightfall came we wanted to watch the sky from our posh love seat.

Ray and I stayed on our knees until the project was complete. Finally content with our structure, we sat back, wet sand pressing against our skin. We listened to the music of the waves gently crashing while the burning amber sky turned into a deep purple and an ultimate midnight black. That was one of the aspects of Myrtle Beach that shocked me; through gleaming lights from ferris wheels, boardwalks, and mansions behind us, the Atlantic Ocean ahead was still backdropped by one of the darkest skies I had ever seen. The moon did not steal the show that night. The sea glistened from the reflection of stars—thousands of them. Stars I had never seen before; stars I didn’t know existed. My imagination was incapable of creating such a scene.

As I scanned the view, I could not differentiate the end of the ocean from the start of the heavens. I wondered which of the stars were presently burnt out but still illuminating us as their light traveled from eons away. I knew that eventually, our sun would give out... and our species... and our planet. It dawned on me just how insignificant we are in the timeline of the universe. We are but a speck in the midst of its expansion. For some reason, we get to be a part of something so much more than us: this beautifully incomprehensible experience called life. Sometimes, the universe’s immenseness and our teeny roles in it discourage me, but I remember what makes me happy to be alive—people. Being a social species, we thrive off of the connections we make with others. In this little world, I choose how to influence the people I meet. I choose how to apply the knowledge I hold. I choose the laughter, kindness, and generosity I share. If that is all I can do, then that is what I will do best. In the universe, we may be nothing but a glitch; but to each other, we are everything.

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