Clinkity-clank

[bigscoop]

Ahhhhh......summer is upon us and once again the great drop season has begun. Up in the dry sand there lays a ladies silver ring, at the edge of the surf a platinum band, out on the trough a heavy gold chain. Five months from now there will be gold and silver scattered all up and down the beach, in the dry sand, under the wet sand, and laying hidden below the rolling waves. Clink-clink. Clink-clink. “Hark, what be that tumbling about in the bottom of thy scoop?”


Shiny, sometimes sparky, always heavy, sometimes a shade of yellow, sometimes a shade of white. “Clink-clink, clink-clink.” It's music to the ears, an unmistakable, “clink-clink, clink-clink.” Sometimes, in the case of a chain, it's more like a scratchy, “clinkity-clank, clinkity-clank, clinkity-clank.”


Sometimes you can actually see it coming, the sand slowly flushing from the scoop as you lift it out of the water, and then suddenly there it is, peering up at you like a lost puppy, “Love me. Care for me. Take me home! Take me home!”


Ahhhh....summer is upon us once again and they will be out there, scattered all about and silently laying in wait, all of them longing to be rescued. “Clink-clink. Clinkity-clank.” Can you hear them calling out your name?

 

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[Sandman]

You've got it bad Bigscoop.

 

[s1u2r3f4]

You crack me up Scoop! It better happen soon or I'm selling all my equipment!

 

[bigscoop]

You crack me up Scoop! It better happen soon or I'm selling all my equipment!

Slow motion, like a leaf falling from a tree, a feather drifting in the breeze. They tumble, they turn and they twist, a sparkling flash here, a sparkling flash there, and then a pillow-like “poof” as they come to rest on a comfortable bed of sand, a cozy blanket gently draped over them. “Rest my, precious. Rest. One day someone will come along to scoop you up.”

 

[lorraine]

Bigscoop, you got it right down to the nitty-gritty

Amid the "clinck-clinck" , once in a while I hear a "Bwonk-Bwonk"...from a nice thick "fatty".

Good luck out there.

Lorraine

 

[bigscoop]

"s1u2r3f4....s1u2r3f4.....I'm over here! I'm over here!" It's like hearing tiny voices in your head, "Beep. Honk. Squeal." Sometimes it sounds like a traffic jam on Mars and we can never quite be sure what they're driving or what they're telling us until we dig them up, meet them face to face. "Clink-clink. Clank-clank." Is it a Cadillac or a Ugo? The good ones are usually shiny little buggers, heavy in the hand, good color for the soul. "s1u2rf4...s1u2r3f4, I'm over here! I'm over here!"

 

[sponge]

Its time

 

[search and recovery]

The Treasurenet poet has spoken. Bigscoop. All the sounds of treasure in your scoop and in your mind...Now you got me thinking the same way on those sounds. I have got to get back to the beach and soon! It is going to be a great season.

 

[Lady Pirate]

I hear ya Bigscoop....all the way over here in Wyoming. I miss the beaches. I'll be back one day!

 

[Msbeepbeep]

I hear that too...till July 1, when the giant foot of the DCR comes stomping down crushing our dreams on the beaches!...sigh.

 

[Mi$terG]

Exactly, Msbeepbeep. Exactly.