So, a strange thing happened this weekend.
Saturday was a beautiful day and we decided to take our boat out for a family day on the river.
After a few false starts, we finally hit the water in the early afternoon.
We tooled around for a bit and then decided to take our picnic lunch (rightfully “dinch” – a combination of dinner and lunch that is a favorite meal of Trixie’s) to a small island with a sandy beach.
Although the waterway is dotted with spots like this, picking the right one wasn’t easy, particularly since Everyone and his/her Proverbial Brother had gotten a jump on the day and was already out there.
We finally found a sliver of beach among some other boats and disembarked.
I was shaking out the picnic blanket and kicking some sand with my flip flop when I saw it: a diamond engagement ring glittering deep in the sand.
I reached down, picked it up and tucked it safely into our beach bag.
Honestly, I’m not sure what I thought I was going to do with it.
This was obviously a treasure to someone, and while I didn’t know exactly know how to get it back to its rightful owner, it seemed better to rescue it than let it get ever buried in the sand.
We went about our afternoon, splashing in the water, eating sandy sandwiches, until finally we’d had enough sun and got ready to head home.
Trixie asked for one more spin in the inner tube (Spouse and I had been spinning her around and pushing her between us in the water, with plenty of capsizing thrown in), so we said that we’d stay for five more minutes.
When the time was up, we resumed packing.
Right then, another boat pulled up.
A couple about a decade younger got out and slowly started walking along the shoreline.
As they neared us, I had a funny feeling.
Me: “What are you looking for?”
Other Woman (choked up): “I lost my wedding ring.”
Me: “I found it.”
A chorus of thank yous, happy tears, and they were on their way.
Before they left I told them I was a big believer in karma, and I saw those fortuitous five extra minutes as a sign of good fate for us all around.