Walking along the beach in the Outer banks, the shell pickings are pretty slim. The surf is just too rough, and a whole clamshell can seem like a prize. While running on the beach, a mostly intact conch shell appeared before me, but before I could grab it, a wave took it away. The next wave set it between my feet, so I considered it a gift from the ocean. It was the best shell I saw on the beach all week.

On another walk, I came upon this guy:

A flounder lying in the tide line. When I leaned over I could see his he was alive, his mouth moved and his side rose and fell. I slipped my hand under him to pick him up but he flipped away from me. So I slipped both hands under him to propel him to the incoming wave. Success!

Nope. He was back on the sand in front of me. This time when I picked him up he didn't offer resistance. I flung him into the wave, and back he came again. Hmmm, maybe he just wants to die.

But, I thought, wouldn't he rather die in the water instead of gasping for breath on land? "Sorry Buddy, you are just too cute not to take your picture." I took his photo as he stared at me with his two green eyes, moving his fish lips. Then I lifted him, waded into the water and flung him past the surf. He didn't return.

Success! What a good deed, I congratulated myself as I walked back down the beach. But then, feelings of self-doubt came over me. Maybe he was an enchanted human that was turned into a fish and his last wish was to die on dry land. Maybe I had just screwed everything up. Maybe I had just lost my chance to be granted three wishes.

"Maybe you were supposed to kiss him," my friend Jon said.