Sand

I have been both blessed and cursed with sand most of my life. Well, my adult life anyway, as a child I was permanently stained by the red dirt of north Georgia. As a sailor and world traveler, I have had the opportunity to become a connoisseur of beaches. The white sugar sand of Florida, the dark volcanic sand of the south Pacific, the muddy sands of Europe, and then there was the middle east.

Sand has held for centuries many roles. Used as a medium to tell time, as in an hour glass, used as an abrasive to smooth things out. Southwestern Native Americans even used colored sands to create pictures with. Sand can be very irritating, as if caught in the wrong area of ones bathing suit. Sand is mixed with cement to form smooth concrete making it a very strong material.

I know people named Sandy, one of them is my dear sister. I have been described as having sand in my shoes, because I love to travel and always like it more when it is near water, and beaches. And I have a memory of the intro to an old time soap opera that goes, "Like sands through an hour glass, so are the Days of our Lives", which was recited every day on television, and I am told before that on radio, by MacDonald Carey.

People travel to sandy places, just to put their toes, or other portions of their posterior in it. To frolic upon it, to revel in its simplistic beauty.

Today, I have spent cleaning it out of my lawnmower engine, it seems to find its way in to all the places that it shouldn't be. Its the same with my house, it seems to be everywhere, tracked in on shoes or blown in with the wind. On of the hazards of of living here, between the swamp and the sea.

Thus ends my daily rant, but once again I find my self thankful, because with all the bad going on in our world today, I find my biggest enemy is sand. At least for today!

Old Captain Sends.