Wishing Stone

This early morning, walking along the pebbly beach here on the West Coast, I aimed to find what we, as kids, used to call "wishing stones". They're the small dark  pebbles marked with a light grey circle. Lots of shiny dark pebbles have grey on them, you say. Yes, but not all of the circles on them are complete, but if you find one that is, that determines it a wishing stone. You make your wish and toss the pebble out to sea. You all know finding a perfectly white stone is good luck, and finding one that is flat and rounded of any colour, that fits your hand, makes an ideal skipper. You bend just so and flick your wrist when you toss it, you see how many jumps you can get as it flips along the top of the water. It's fun, too, to find "beach jewels" or bits of glass that have smoothed with the tide and waves, until they are  dulled and show unusual colour among the pebbles. Beach-walking is many things to many people. Some speed along, nattily attired in all the gear that runners or fast walkers love to stage. They show off their sleek bodies in the latest stretch wear with lines and slashes in just the right places. The ear buds are locked in. They wear gloves (for some unknown reason) and their running shoes are aeronautically inspired. Looking at their unworldly designs, I think they could space walk in them and stick to the pod without a cord! There are street people ambling along just like you, loving the beach like the child none of us ever quite lose. There are the chatting groups of three or more who have accomplished the skill of close flying that pilots would envy and there are the determined elderly who carom along with the help of wheels: these I admire. One of my favorites, is the long- bearded gentleman who "jogs" daily in his speeding electric cart. Nothing, not even arthritis, is going to deter him! But the most delightful part of my walk is its ending when leaving the walkway and crossing the reeds, I climb over the bigger rocks and find a log to sit on. There I savor the sound of the gulls, the swish of the waves and the rolling of the pebbles only a few feet away. This small, smooth rounded rock, molded by hundreds of years of motion, all of different colours and shapes and of singular origins fell from moving glaciers eons ago. They will make more sandy beaches in more eons of time. I feel the tiny pebble with its circle, I hold in my hand. I look beyond at the stretch of beach . It's like the world and its peoples: all of different origins, colours and shapes, together, rolling and roiling and unwittingly making up what we call, the world. Our world. How fortunate to be here this morning, before the sun, just about to come over the mountain, shines on us all. I can freely take in the freshness of the air, listen to the gulls and look far out to sea. It's the same sea that frees and sustains and gives us life earth-wide. Such a privilege.  It's a lesson like so many others Nature offers, if only we'd stop and think for awhile.  Makes me hope worldwide for this lesson of togetherness.  I make my wish and  throw the wishing stone out as far as I can.