A Tale of Two Grains

Deep in the vastness of sun and sky, past the cusp of blue on blue, a dark storm raged. It thrashed and threw itself ceaselessly against the ocean, finding the surface to be pliable. Yet as the ocean bent in curving slabs, even as it frothed like fire, it did not break. Unsatisfied, the storm howled and twisted until it found a small black island engulfed in white surf. It scraped long torrents of salt and air down the steep sides of the island’s pinnacle, and found with glee that chunks of sharp crumbling stone could be peeled away and sent crashing into the sea. In the turmoil below, stone turned to rock, then rock ground to sand. One tiny particle of the black island in the sea found itself tumbling endlessly through darkened waves and bright froth as the storm’s senseless fury faded into the distance.

* * *

Morning light broke bright and bracing against the blond shores of the tropical island. The waves had already begun to build, rolling slowly across the ocean from forgotten fury a lifetime away. On the dry upper bank, one grain of sand waited eagerly. The foam washed closer, then retreated. Again, but closer this time. Then the foam layer sputtered and rushed forwards, engulfing the dry beach in airy lukewarm water. There was a tiny, almost inaudible ‘whoop!’ of excitement as the grain of sand began her light, exhilarating run. Dodging empty half-pipe shells and freshly wetted pebbles, she flew down the beach in a rolling sprint. With one eye on the approaching wavelet, she caught the next foam uprise and catapulted herself upwards in a sparkling arc as the wave propelled her upwards for the next run. As the storm’s aftershock resounded gently on the beach, the grain of sand jumped and squeaked in joy.

After a full morning passed she rested upon the back of a large smooth stone, admiring the sizable waves. Just then, at the top of a wavelet’s foamy white crescent, she saw a speck of black. Startled, she stared closer. Again, the black speck flew uncontrolled through the crest of a wave and tumbled up further on the beach. She nimbly caught a gust off the stone perch then worked cautiously across the expanse, hiding behind scuttling red crabs and lingering bubbles of seafoam. She examined the black speck through a wavering bubble. Then there was a small groan.

“What was that?” she asked herself, startled. Another groan came from the black speck. “Who are you?” she addressed the speck boldly. “Are you sand?”

“Huh?” said the black speck.

The blond grain of sand rolled back in shock, “You can talk?”

“Um… yes…” said the black speck. “I am sand, I think.”

She stood still, processing this.

“Where am I?” asked the black grain of sand.

“You’re on the island,” she responded matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” he said.

“Well,” she ventured, “can you roll?”

“Roll?”

“Yes, you know…” and at this, she rolled back and forth hesitantly.

The black speck strained, fidgeting slightly in the wet sand.

The blond speck laughed, “No, no, silly. Like this!” She rolled down the beach, caught a gently advancing foam layer, and rolled back up to him.

“How do you do that?” he asked, incredulous. “I’ve never been able to move.”

She thought for a moment, then responded. “Well, it’s not really that I’m moving… it’s that everything else is.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Like… when I roll, the other grains part for me. Or I feel a gust of wind. Or the waves sweep me up… it’s like… choosing the right moment. Does that make any sense?” she responded.

“I’m not sure,” he said uncertainly, “but let me try something.” The black grain of sand trembled slightly, then relaxed and rolled a few inches down the beach.

“Wow I did it!!” he hollered.

“Nice job,” she responded with a mischievous grin. “Now follow me!”

The blond grain of sand sped down the beach without looking back. The black grain of sand followed, slowly at first, but with each revolution he rolled faster and with more confidence. A light following breeze blew as he skimmed across the slick layer of sand. Ahead, the blond grain caught a wavelet that curved into a delicate barrel and glided gracefully back up the beach. Unprepared, the black grain slammed into the approaching wavefront and went hurtling straight up screaming. When he landed with a tiny plop, the next wave caught him in a spincycle and spat him out onto dry ground.

“Are you alright?” the blond speck asked, coasting up to him.

“I guess I have more practice to do,” he mumbled quietly.

The two specks spent the afternoon catching wavelets and riding foam layers. As the sun began to set, they made their way up to a dry patch high on the beach together.

“I think you’re lighter than I am,” she said, “you can get some serious height from those jumps.”

“I know!” he responded. “I had no idea rolling and jumping could be so fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it!” she said. They basked in the warmth of the sunset. Palm trees behind them rustled slightly in the breeze. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked softly.

“Of course,” he said.

“Where did you come from?”

“I remember tumbling… away. In the ocean, I lost more and more of what made me myself. I remember being wiser.” He paused for a moment and seabirds whirled silently far above them. “I think I came here from very far away.”

“Well, you are quite light. You can almost float, if you want to!” she remarked.

“You know something? I don’t think I ever moved, before. Not like you taught me. Isn’t that strange?” he said.

“Not any stranger than anything else,” she responded with a light laugh.

The two specks sat watching with delight as the sun settled in the ocean’s open arms. Thick orange light bathed the beach in warm assurance of another day, then familiar stars shone bright in the dark violet of night.