I never played in a sandbox as a kid.  I have not really ever cared for the gritty stuff, particularly in a landlocked city.  But my little one has been lucky enough to visit an ocean every year since her birth.  Perhaps that is why she is more drawn to it than I.  We were at the park on a rare day that was not sizzling hot and I was completely shocked to discover they had built in this subtly clever, winding trench of sand.  After all the times we had been there I had never even noticed it!  But she found it and soon made friends with two fraternal twins playing construction with their trucks.  Now I understood why she wanted to bring her beach pail and shovel.  Sitting on the stone wall in the shade I watched in contemplative silence as the three of them played side by side, each happy in their own little world.  I found myself thinking about the sands of time.  Like an hourglass, it seems to trickle much more slowly when you’re younger.  One of the beauties of children is I think they allow you to slow down as well.  The great English poet William Blake must be on my mind lately.  I was reminded of my favorite quote of his:

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.”