Tuesday, January 10, 2012

My Own Private Boulder

(Pre-Script: This post best read as the song "Somewhere only we know," #16 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

OK so here's how it happened: I was walking on the beach again, because that is one of the things I do routinely, and I looked down and saw a white quartz. It looked about the size of my fist, but it was partially covered in sand. I went to pick it up and realized it wasn't budging and was obviously bigger than it looked. I had to use a stick to dislodge it, but when I did, lo and behold: a boulder. It was huge. So I did what any girl on the beach would do. Because that is how I do everything in my entire life. I carried (holy cow, have mercy, it was pure solid heaviness) it down to the water and rinsed it off in the waves. Then I wrapped it in my hoodie and carried it like a baby-like a huge gigantic baby-the entire two miles back up to my car.
When I was almost to my car, I saw two police-state park-looking gentlemen apprehending a civilian who was sitting on his knees with his hands behind his back. The problem was that this was happening RIGHT by my car. I drive to this particular beach often, and how often do I see these police officer/state park type of guys? Never. WHY did they have to show up the one day I was carrying huge beach contraband? They already had one guy on his knees; who knew what extreme measures they were willing to take to preserve their state beach and keep it as pristine and beatific as possible?? I have no idea if it's illegal to remove 20 lb quartz from the beach or not; it's not something I ever thought about before, and I don't think it's anything that anyone attempts very often. I had no choice but to walk by as nonchalantly as possible; like no officer, there is nothing huge and heavy and beach-belonging under this hoodie I am holding. No I am not slightly panting and sweaty from carrying it up all of those stairs after walking two miles with it in my arms. I guess it worked, because they did not say a word to me as I put my newly acquired boulder in my car.

So now I own a boulder, my first ever. I am proud of the effort I put into getting and keeping it, including the part where I was nearly incarcerated.*

And no, I have no idea what I'm going to do with it now.


*You can accuse me of exaggerating the almost incarceration, but then again, you weren't there, were you.

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