For four days, people from around the world strolled a shimmering white beach to view sand sculptures at the Siesta Key Crystal Classic in Sarasota, FL.
On the show’s second morning, a small crowd formed around a castle of fairy-tale proportions. An older man – tanned and wearing designer swim trunks, a gold necklace and polarized Oakleys -- peered up at the castle’s winding stairs.
Next to him, a young girl contemplated scrunching her big toe into the moat.
And just a foot away, a homeless man with caked, matted hair wondered what was going on inside the sculpted fortress. His imagination squeezed into one of the tiny windows and floated over to where his mind’s eye lingered – near a massive oak table covered with a white cloth and gold coins.
Lighted iron candlesticks revealed a sumptuous banquet.
Gleaming pewter goblets reflected faces -- of a king or a knight, a jester or troubadour?
Suddenly, a blast of trumpets. The homeless man covered his ears and dropped to his knees.
Shaking, he looked up at the sky, only to see a silvery plane bound for Milwaukee.
So much for reverie.
But for a moment, he was a prince, a prince who had a home.
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