west of the moon, east of the sun

It is well known that Psamathos does not leave his cove. He does not like to get his feet wet, and prefers to spend his days dozing under the sun.

What is known, however, is not always true. It is true that Psamathos’ long ears are often mistaken for sticks jutting out of the sand by passersby, but it is also true that sticks are, sometimes, only sticks.

The house of Roverandom’s family is not the only one close to the beach, and among the neighborhood it is known that sometimes little sand figures appear, decorated with seashells and seaweed, and sometimes even pearls. They come in many forms: mermaids and fish, and whales; sometimes castles like nothing any land-dweller has ever seen before. Once a miniature dragon coiled around a miniature mountain made of sand, a perfect rendering of the Great White Dragon on the moon, though of course only Roverandom recognized it.

It is considered good luck to find such a sand-sculpture in one’s backyard, and not without cause. Illnesses are known to get suddenly better; colicky babies find sudden comfort; gardens suffering from pests begin to flourish. If one is lucky enough to find a pearl, it is always a very valuable one. Fishermen take the bits of seaweed with them as talismans, and find good catch and good weather to bring them home again.

Of course the sand-sculptures are temporary. A high tide will come and wash them away, or the wind will blow them back into the dunes. But they are beautiful while they last, and as he dozes beneath his own dunes in his cove, Psamathos smiles to himself.