Somewhere just off the sea my father would walk along the sands and hunt for interesting rocks and shells. He’d then put his collection in a bucket and we’d haul them back to our home in Boyle Heights. I paid him no mind.
Today I tripped on a pail my youngest has in the garage. There are so many keepsakes from beach trips that I had a hard time counting them.
Across time & space these two share that common bond. Just had to stub my toe to realize it.