Sand

Luciole Beach, Martinique | Siim Sepp / Alamy Stock Photo

I grew up in Texas, where all but one of the seven thousand lakes are human-made. And there is a debate that even the exception only exists because of heavy human interaction. That means the shorelines of Texas lakes are mud or rocks. I have spent little time around sand—except for sandboxes. Plus, as I age, I’m growing more and more indoorsy.

I came across photos of sand at 300x zoom, and they were beautiful. A pile of sand in my palm mostly seems the same. Even though it is called a pile, it barely seems like many things. Some pieces stick out, but it is primarily tan, tiny rocks. Under the microscope, the significant amount of variety becomes clear.

The sand consists of shells, gemstones, rocks, and fossils. Depending on the beach, the colors vary wildly. Once zoomed in, each piece is entirely unique from the others.

I sometimes view people, or even my days, as a palm full of sand. They are mostly the same. When I am not paying attention—not noticing—I won’t see the pieces. I cannot appreciate the variety. Only once I zoom in do I notice just how unique and different each is.

Is each day the same, or am I just not paying attention? Do I see the differences I contribute? Have I noticed the uniqueness of everyone else?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.