Ruinous Coins and Sand Castles: New Jersey Copper about to be Washed Away

A favorite amusement is building castles on the beach.
   With plastic shovel and pail, we construct an impenetrable fortress, only to watch the ramparts crumble in the onslaught of the rising tide.
   We are mesmerized, watching until the last remnant -- just a wet mound remaining -- is washed away. Obliterated.
   This is the drama of life: The recapitulation of empire and decline, of youth and old age, of certain death to all persons and
things.

New Jersey copper about to be washed away.

We are enamored with ruins because they are like half-washed sand castles frozen in time. Ruins are brutally honest, as they announce the end of a bustling summer. No season lasts forever.
   Corroded coins are ruins.
   We like to think of them as immortal, as history in your hands -- the still point. But, they have a lifespan. And so, like our sand castles, grounders eaten away by corrosion show us the way home.
   No wonder we cannot stop looking, our fingertips rubbing away at the porous surface. It is an urgent curiosity.
   This lowly New Jersey copper evokes a wide range of emotions. I am fascinated. It scares me. It makes me think about all sorts of things. It is a piece of numismatic art.
   This is the way of the necromancer.