wet balls of sand

While I walked on the beach a few days ago, James sat under his beach umbrella making perfect spheres of sand from about two inches in diameter to maybe 9 inches in diameter. He created them one at a time and placed them in a line leading toward the beach starting with the smallest and making each increasingly larger. My walk was about an hour and I returned while he was finishing the 8th sand ball and moving on to the 9th and final one.

"People keep looking at me." He said as he dug sand from the pit in front of him and packed it onto the growing sphere. He nodded toward two children standing with their hands folded staring in our direction. "What do you think they are looking at?" I laughed because I think his question was sincere. I tried to explain how unusual it might look to others - picture the scene - a tall unshaven man sitting by himself under a bright turquoise beach umbrella decorated with fish and seashells, wearing a giant, battered, bahamian straw hat with a homemade sheriff's badge attached to the front, reflective sunglasses, a long-sleeved shirt, and blue floral swimming trunks - and he just happens to making sand balls. James enjoyed the description but didn't really get what was odd about it. After finishing the last one, he stood, brushed himself off and went for a swim.

As soon as he walked away, one of the staring children, a little boy of about 8, ran up to me and asked,"What are those?" My reply. "Sand balls." He wasn't satisfied. "Why did he make them?" My reply. "Because he wanted to." Another question,"What is going to do with them?" My reply. "Nothing - he just wanted to make them." Obviously the boy wanted more, but there was nothing more I could tell him. "Oh," he said and ran back to his sister.

James returned from his swim and we lowered the umbrella. As we picked it up and turned away, two other boys ran along the beach toward the balls. "I think they want the sand balls." I said to James. He didn't believe me. We walked a few more feet, turned and watched as the boys swooped in, each grabbing one of the balls and running away - carefully balancing them. "They are stealing the sand balls!" James exclaimed. Soon a little girl was running toward the balls. We watched in amazement as each ball was removed by a different child and taken to their respective play areas. Children who weren't quick enough cried out at the inequity. Parents did their best to console and distract the losers. Chaos a la James was created on the beach that afternoon and he is still rejoicing in the memories of it.