The memories of going to the beach, when I was a child, mostly consists of my father sleeping and my mother, my sister and I looking for amber. The shores of Denmark are supposed to be one of the places where you relatively easy should be able to find chunks of amber. So when we went to the beach, the three of us would walk up and down the shoreline, eyes fixed down towards the sand. My mother has two very small ugly chunks of amber she found herself as a child on a beach and this was the incentive for us to find more. Of course with the greed of childhood naivety, my sister and me had the belief that if we found some amber we would become rich enough to buy all the candy in the world (just enough for an afternoon). We never found any.
Years later I'm working at a construction site on a new building. Our coffee and lunch breaks my colleagues and me spend on the flat roof, enjoying the summer weather.
One day after river stones had been spread over the rubber tarp that made up the seal on the roof, we saw two concrete drillers walking around looking down on the roofing like they were looking for something. We asked them if they have dropped anything and they reluctantly explained that they had found amber in similar stone roof coverings before. We sat down for our coffee watching them and less than five minutes later they found a piece of amber about an inch across. We then started prospecting as well. Shortly after I found a piece as well, my first amber ever and I found it on a roof ten kilometers from the nearest beach. We all agree not to tell other people on the site about our mother lode. The next few weeks we spend all our breaks walking around that roof with downcast eyes until it simply will not yield anymore. We left no rock unturned.
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