A Dark Little Secret.

I will never forget the first time I held one in my hand. It is the strangest feeling in the world, holding a piece of something that is a part of such lore and terror. But then, when it rests on the palm of your hand, tiny and overlooked by so many, it feels all at once like you're in possession of a dangerous secret. Sharks teeth. Like four-leaf clovers and shooting stars, these dark treasures are something you can miss entirely if you don't know how to look for them.

Every summer when my family goes to the beach, my dad wakes up early and walks the beach at low-tide to find them. Usually he has success at the water's edge where broken shells have washed up. Because shark's teeth are nearly impossible to break, they are easy to find there amidst the shards of ocean life. He will squat in the surf, and brush his fingers through the shell pieces and sand until he sees the gleamy treasure.  Dad will return with a handful of teeth; Each one, shiny and strong, no bigger than a nickel.

But the best part of the treasure hunt is the awe. Throughout the week, dad will collect the teeth in a bottle. When our trip ends, often he gives his loot to a kid. When children see the teeth, its always the same. Their eyes glow, and they cautiously touch the sharp, black teeth - slightly afraid. They look at Dad and back at the teeth, completely in awe of him. And I think that's just it - to hold what makes a shark so powerful, and yet it is so small and powerless - it's confusing, it's bizarre. But really, it's perspective. What is danger? What is death? The ocean, ever-moving, ever-changing, washing up reminders of life's cycle onto shore. I want to live with those awe-filled eyes.

-pictures here and here - we're home from the beach -