it was a tree fork. Like a fork in the road, but made from a tree, or a branch from a tree. And lying on the beach.
It was huge—much larger than me—and heavy.
Lee thought we should lift it up and bury its ends in the sand like a giant upside down Y.
So we did.
We dragged it up the beach until it was above the high-tide mark. We spun it so it was facing the water. And then we dug two holes, one for each leg of the inverted Y.
We tried to lift it, but were unsuccessful getting it to stand.
That was when we noticed people watching.
A local Costa Rican boy came over and started digging.
Then a middle-aged touristy lady came over and helped us lift.
A local man enjoying the beach with his family added his strength to the production, and soon we had the tree fork standing upside down. An arch. Or possibly, a gateway.
Solemnly, we took turns walking through it.
I am not sure where it led, but without common words, we all understood it led somewhere.