Needle in a Haystack

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I was camping with my whole family on a beautiful northwest Pacific beach several days ago and was determined to find a time to get into the ocean.  I love swimming in salt water and even though the water temperature was only sixty degrees, it was sunny and warm and all the kids plus several adult family members were in there. I had a brief discussion with my twelve-year-old grandson about whether it was less physically alarming to dive quickly into a wave or to wade in gradually and I opted for the former.  I went zooming into the surf, ran thirty feet or so out and dove under a crashing wave — forgetting that when I swim I change from glasses to contact lenses.  I didn’t realize my error until I resurfaced in chest deep water with totally blurred vision. “My glasses!” I shrieked — whereupon my grandson bent down and nonchalantly picked them up from the ground beneath the swirling ocean waves. Just like that. Blue glasses in the blue pounding surf. I’m convinced that kid could find a needle in a haystack.

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