Happiness in Finding Something Unexpected

The shovel sliced through the dirt with a careful determination earned from years of excavation. He labored alone on a private plot of land where he was carrying out his latest search. His team was enjoying a holiday today, but not this scientist. In solitude, under the midday sun, he worked. The soil his faithful friend; the ancient artifacts buried deep within, his trusted companions. Bernard, a respected but unpretentious archaeologist, had devoted his life to discovery, and little did he know, this day would be a day unlike any other. 

Thunk. The shovel hit something solid. The vibrations of unexpected discovery coursed through the spade's handle and into his hands, arms, and shoulders; it was music to his body. Bernard dropped the shovel excitedly in exchange for tools more suited for the craft of unearthing a potential treasure. 

With a small pick in his right hand he knelt down, carefully removing the dirt clinging to the surface of the soild-shrouded mystery that lay beneath him. Was it merely a large rock? Was it a skull of long deceased animal? Was it a fossil?

To his shock, he quickly realized this was no ordinary find. Not a rock, not a fossil, not scrap metal, it was some sort of box, perhaps a chest. Swapping out his pick for a brush, he dusted off the upper surface of his latest find. Immediately, markings appeared, and a gilded trim glistened under the sun. 

It took every ounce of self-control to restrain his enthusiasm from feverishly clawing at the dirt to rip the discovery from the ground. Instead, he patiently continued the craft he'd perfected over decades. Hours later as dusk settled in, he pulled the box from the hole and fell down in a heap of exhaustion. 

Hours must have passed. With uncharacteristic weariness, he had fallen asleep beneath the silver moon. The howl of jackals and chirping of crickets were the only sounds of the lunar-basked night. With the giddy anticipation of a child on Christmas morning, Bernard picked up his discovery.