The Forest of White Sand
A figure stood, stock still. Listening. Waiting. Watching. Creatures looked up from their nests, as most do, for there is nearly nothing exciting to see when all there is to see is an endless span of white laid out before you like a serving of old mashed potatoes. Not like the clouds were any different, but the blue which hid behind gave a ravishing pop to the rather dull and unexciting eyesore which was the forest of sand. Indeed, such a place would bring renewed excitement to those full of wonder, and was certainly such a grand palace of beauty for one to behold. The beasts which roamed within were blind however, their views obscured by the dreary skeleton trees and the piles of blanched sand stretching amongst every crevice and crack. Colour was scarce, and life was short, at least, until a new resident came fluttering in, full of colour, much like a small Monarch butterfly drifting along in the breeze. Feeling along the rough bark hugging the tree, Vitae fixed his green gaze onto the emptiness below rather than the soft blue emanating from above, greeting the plain sand with an air of awe and unfathomable amazement. Sliding down the tree, Vitae would express his unrequited gratitude to the sorrowful and unsightly sand by studying each opposing grain, reflecting upon both their shape and colour. Under his gaze, the sand transformed. What was once white and dull, was now a secret work of art, constructed of tiny cubes and bashful circles, angry triangles and wondrous octagons. Each shape held even more of an opposing view, as some bore a gentle silver, while some, a dashing green. It was all wonderful to the eyes of the curious, yet painfully dull in the grasp of the grave. Sifting among the sand, Vitae discovered the most splendid of treasures; a tiny beast, which was nestled into the sand, seemingly too small to hide up in the trees. Gently, Vitae picked the tiny beast, watching in splendor as it woke up, angry and confused. As the tiny beast tried its best to bite his finger tips off, Vitae picked up a pinch of sand, lifting it up to eye level. “Look,” he whispered, “Look at the marvelous art with which you were given.” The creature ceased its grovelling to look at what had once been its nest. Immediately, glaring up at its captor, the tiny beast huffed back as if to say “so what?’ With a small smile, Vitae delivered a lone grain of sand into the angry paws of his little friend, watching in anticipation to see what it might think. Examining the grain, the small beast did something it had not done in most of its life; it smiled.