Her back is bent so that she can better scrutinize the fishes darting here and to in the shadows, and the edges of blue shells winking in the summer sun's light. The waves playfully lap at her legs as she gingerly pokes from between corals and rock pools, looking for treasures buried in the sand.
With a shriek of glee, she carefully pulls from the water a muddy sand dollar, and with infinite care, brushes the grit and sand from the precious fossil. Looking up, sun kissed cheeks framed by blond curls that haphazardly blow in the sea breeze, she smiles up at you. You ask if you can see her sand dollar, and suddenly shy, she hides it behind her back and grins back at you. She announces it is not a san'dowler, it's a san' flower. She then presents it to you with infinite trust so that you can make your own assessment.
You agree as you turn the sand flower over in your hands, nodding an assent as you ho and hum with exaggerated interest. You give the sand flower back, but instead of taking it from you, she stubbornly stands, rigid and severe, and tells you that her treasure is yours now. Puzzled, you ask her why she wants to give up such a grand thing, and she tells you assuredly that her sand flower is the color of love, and she wants you to remember. You ask her what does she mean, the color of love? With an exasperated sigh only the young can have when explaining the painfully obvious to adults, she takes your hand and bids you to follow her.
She takes you to the pool from which her flower had come, and tells you to look. Confused, but fascinated, you make an attempt to see what she has seen. You tell her you see little blue fish, muddy pink corals, flaky brown rocks.. and she shakes her head with fervor. Look closer, she says, and don't try so hard. And so you do. You peer into the water, focusing and, scrunching your eyebrows in deep concentration. Exasperated, she tells you that you are trying too hard, and struggles to find a translation. "You're jus' seeing everythin' one at a time. daddy. You have ta look at everythin' all at once so a story can jump out."
She looks at you, lower lip protruding in a pout. Brightening, she instead directs your attention by pointing, and paints a picture of what she sees as she points. Her narration transforms what you saw moments ago from the mundane into a world of magic. You see that the fish are in fact blue, but they have glinting scales that reflect white and gold as they swim from shadow to light. You see the twisting paths of corals fade from brilliant reds to burnt oranges and yellow-pinks as the waves pass over. You see small, flecked shell shards, glinting purple and green, so bright you have to squint. You see a whole world of water, alive and teeming with color and the brilliance of movement.
Everything is cause and effect, nothing happens without touching the spirit of something else. As the feathered fingers of anonymities float with the ebbing and flowing of the surf, creatures flutter about their fringes in a dance of feeding, fighting, and courtship. Even the ocean floor, full of sand, jagged rocks, and the fossilized bodies of sea animals make up the homes of living sea animals. It is an orchestra of life.
Your eyes widen with understanding, and she smiles at you, satisfied her knowledge has been imparted. You stare at her in awe, and wonder how one so young can have such profound awareness. You pull her in for a sideways hug, and she tolerates you for a bare moment before wiggling free to take up her vigilant exploration of the world the water holds once again.
Standing, you watch her a moment before you notice a woman wearing a smoky sky blue dress blowing in the breeze walking through the waves to join you. She smiles at you quizzically, and asks what the lesson was all about. You look at her intently.
"What is the color of love?"
One of her eyebrows arches, and she gawks at you as though this was the silliest question ever asked, but says nothing. Instead, she looks over the glittering waves, and nods towards something in the distance. You turn to follow her gaze.
"Do you see the ship on the horizon line over there?"
You nod.
"Do you see how the sun reflecting off the waves makes it appear that the ship is flying?"
Puzzled, you peer at the ship. You do see that the sun creates a hazy illusion around the hull of the ship where it touches the water line, but nothing more.
Frustrated, you try to remember your lesson and to look without just seeing. The woman smiles lightly, and watches you. You roll your eyes at her, and look again towards the ship. Her whisper tickles your ear as she softly tells you not to try so hard.
The corner of your mouth lifts in a wry grin, and you gaze out to sea once more. The sun glints on the horizon line, reflecting off the gleaming white of the ship, which floats above the water like a fat, lazy bird levitating on the wind current. The smoke from the stack forms islands of clouds in which the boat sails between in a world of sky blue and water green. Eyes widening, she turns you to face her. "Love is the color of magic and wonder. Do you see it?"
You nod dumbly and she again turns you to face the little girl, splashing in the waves while looking for bits of imagination between the rocks. The woman leans into your embrace. "Why do you think we love you so much?"