Lost and Found

It was the end of summer at Moreau Lake State Park. I was wandering around the beach and nature center with my camera, enjoying the quiet. There were very few people around. The summer crowds had disappeared, leaving behind the peaceful atmosphere that comes when a busy season draws to a close.

A man with a metal detector was searching the beach for buried treasures. I was searching too, although I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I simply enjoy wandering with my camera and noticing things.

And then I found my own treasure.

There, carefully lined up and waiting to be claimed, was a collection of forgotten sneakers. I believe there may even have been a sock involved.

Someone had apparently gathered these little casualties of summer and placed them where they could be seen, perhaps hoping their owners would remember where they'd left them and come back.

I had no interest in taking another ordinary photograph of the lake. Beautiful as it was, I'd seen plenty of lake photographs.

But this? This had a story.

I imagined children running barefoot along the beach, splashing in the water, laughing, and having so much fun that their sneakers became completely irrelevant.

Until it was time to go home.

Somewhere, I imagined a parent discovering that another pair of sneakers had joined the annual collection of things children manage to lose.

"Well, there goes another pair this summer!"

Of course, I have no idea who owned those shoes or whether anyone ever returned for them. But I liked imagining that someone had lined them up with the hope that a child might come back looking.

Meanwhile, the man with the metal detector continued searching for treasure beneath the sand.

And I had found mine sitting in plain sight.

The summer was gone. But the shoes had left evidence.