Hag Stones

We slowly walked along the beach, granddaughter and me, in silence, save for the distant roaring of the sea. At times, she ran ahead, dancing, skipping on the sand once in a while, returning to take me by the hand. With heads bowed, we both scoured earnestly along the shore She and I were both aware what we were searching for. Somewhere among the seaweed, crab shells, and old fish bones, we would find those unique rocks with holes she called Hag Stones. Occasionally, a game or two; some won, some lost. It usually involved pebbles, skipped, piled, or tossed. Screams of laughter, wet bottoms, falling in the water; both tired, we head back home to mother and to daughter. We slowly walked along the beach, granddaughter and me, in silence, save for the distant roaring of the sea. I have more answers because I'm older than is she But I also have more questions, so it seems to me.