Through an Hourglass

People once used sand to mark time in an hourglass.

Marking time doesn’t seem to be living.
An hourglass hardly seems joyful.

Where I grew up the sand is rich, white, and unique. Its rounded grains of clear colorless quartz, diamond-like in hardness, are pure silica (silicon dioxide) uncontaminated by clay, loam, iron compounds, or other foreign substances.

White silica is sand for windows and marbles. As kids, it was cool to see the local factory logo on every car window in the nation. It was also cool to grab rejects behind the marble factory — flat disks of colored glass are fascinating to any kid not yet age 10.

Sometimes we wondered how tiny salt-like grains could become clear windows and colorful marbles. Most times we never thought about it at all.

The local dairy built a recreational lake on their property. They floored and bordered it with the pure white, clean, clean sand . . . Swimming lessons, dates, beach parties, even weddings took place there. Famous rock bands played there while we danced by the lake.

We had more than our share of sand in our shoes and our hair. That fact was pointed out nearly every time we walked within 20 feet of an adult.

Sand, grit, guts, gumption, moxie . . . We found those vibrant synonyms in a book in high school — the one with the metaphors. The same words might describe a well-lived life.

Where I come from the sand is unique.
I bet it’s unique where you come from too.
What if we take the sand out of the hourglass this weekend?

Get enough sand and we’ve got a beach.

Ever built a castle?

–ME “Liz” Strauss
Work with Liz!!