When are we lost? When we can no longer see our path, find our way?
A couple of weeks ago I saw a single, filigree earring half-buried in shore sand. I walked on a little way, thinking I should do a post on things lost, so I turned around and went back to photograph the earring. I couldn't find it again. Sometimes things and people are truly lost and stay that way.
But I went looking for lost things again and found some and thought about how melancholy I was feeling. The water-logged spiral notebook in the drowned tote above made me wonder if a writer or student lost their musings and creations to sea and sand. Did the bag fall from a boat, off the pier? (I directed the county harbor crew to it, by the way.)