Gathering stones, feathers, small purple crabs; prying brown granite rocks; splendid-eyed, sun- lit blue, he followed every shrimp dart. Returned to the house, sorting buckets, he admired clear agate, ropes, seaweed, eroded glass. Transparent quills, one cracked bottle; sonorous, unbroken shell convolutions and eleven outraged hermit crabs. Suddenly, a shade altered his mood. He saw morning sun beam a decal quail on the glass door and exclaimed: A bird is floating on the table! He sat a while, pensive, a chiseled face rested on his left palm, musing on sunlight shapes a boy can't hold.