Other Things Hands Can Do

This summer, I went to Carl's house after visiting a family on Cape Cod. I brought him some stones and a hermit crab shell, the kind with a perfect logarithmic spiral, pale indigo. I told him he didn't have to take them if they were annoying, if he didn't really have a place to put them. He took them in his hand and said, "Well, if I put them here like this, the next time my daughter comes over, she'll run right over to them and start asking excited questions." As he was saying this, I watched his fingers deftly arrange the few stones in a small, carefully constructed pile, and artfully place the shell on top. This small group of objects suddenly became something beautiful, an unexpected treasure to be happened upon.