I've been thinking about this post for a while; in fact, the idea was sparked one day in June as I strolled down a grey and wind-whipped beach.

On the surf's edge, a pale bronze light flicked the edge of my vision; it was some way up the shore. As I moved closer, I saw it was a tarnished dollar coin, and dusting it off, I pocketed it.

My memory travelled back a few decades to my second year at school. I was a new school, again. I liked this school very much; the teachers were cool. The Principal struck me as old - I'm not sure that he was - wise, genial, but to be feared by a cheeky six-year old.

One lunch hour, a pale bronze light flicked the edge of my vision. I trotted across to where the sparkle had appeared; the base of a tall tree, and saw that there were two coins. A one dollar coin and a two dollar coin, making three dollars. New Zealand had only that year swopped notes for these coins, making the treasure all the newer and more exciting.

I picked them up and looked around for their owner, who was not to be found. I went to the duty teacher and she suggested I give the coins to The Principal, which I dutifully did.

Around the time I finished secondary school, the Principal retired. He'd been in charge of the school for most of its existence, and it was a big send off. At the farwell, the Principal quietly passed an envelope to my Mum. It contained three dollars. And a faded post-it note;

"Capt. Atopic $3 handed in" and the date. I kept the coins at the bottom of my drawer. I was again reminded of the coins when I finished Pharm School and packed up to move out. They stayed with my other primary school treasures. The beach dollar sat on the window sill for months. The idea crawled to a dark corner of my memory, hibernating.

This week, I've moved house again. Everything boxed, schlepped and revealed. Meanwhile, The Principal's coins are stored across the Tasman. Unpacking my desk, I rediscovered the beach coin; and I remembered remembering.