Their construction was in full swing. Some by little tots with grandiose plans. Others by adults who were substituting building on the beach for routine jobs this week, shaping the sand instead of volleying emails. One oversized castle caught my attention. Its architects were very much grown-ups and saw no shame in this endeavor usually pursued by children. When I passed the first time, the protective moat was in place and the enormous base already boasted a few turrets. This would be a sandcastle that would rival all other sandcastles and its builders showed vision and passion towards its completion.
My goals were different as I journeyed Eastwardly along the gulf coast of Florida. The orange of the rising sun was splashing haphazardly across the waves, signaling the start of a new day. My bare feet pressed into the sand like a silent drummer as I picked my path with lefts and rights just above the surf. I admired the first light as I carefully scanned for the harder sand that was nestled just above the water line, left from some now unseen wave. The air boasted of salt as the sound of the rising and falling water overtook all stresses. I ran absorbing the view with castle inspections as my only tasks.
My effort and theirs all seemed like a waste of time. Their castles and my footprints would eventually be erased by the crashing waves. Each grain of sand would be rearranged by the salty force of the oceans metronome and randomly placed back on the beach. No fortified castle and no footprint would remain as their fates became the same.
I wondered about the sanity of those who had pulled them selves from a vacation bed, only to labor towards a temporary goal. But then the bigger picture replaced the postcard of my thoughts. Life is a just a vapor. All the work and all the footprints that I have scattered around this globe are slowly being swept back to sea. My work here will disappear into the abyss and the beaches on which I have traveled will no longer bear my mark.
That castle is gone. I was not there for its demise, but we all know its fate. But in that moment of time, it mattered. It provided a mission and memories, much like my footprints. Those that shaped the sand and those that left foot sized indentions along the coast are all changed. Most of us for the better.
Build your castle with gusto. Run your miles. Make memories that will last once the sands of time run from their glass and back to the deep. This life is short. Rearrange the sand is such a way that the legacy of your sandcastle out lasts the construction.
