A Diamond in the Ruff

Ever stumbled onto something you never expected to find in a pile of soot? Disguised underneath thick layers of refuse, a diamond’s true glow could never be less glamorous. Still, patiently it’ll sit over hundreds of years as it rises to the Earth’s surface waiting to be discovered by an eye so keen on looking out, for even the slightest glimmer.

You are my diamond in the ruff.

Blindly stumbling through the lists of boys I have over the years, my eyes had adjusted to the dimness of their glow. Littered around me like a junk yard, these once-prized-now-forgotten wisps were no longer of priority to me. Little did I know that in the midst of my evolution, the very principles on which I govern would evolve too; bringing me to a point I never thought would come to be.

Attractive shapes and impressive weights were once the measuring rod I used to sort the scrap, wanted from unwanted. Surface value was of much higher demand in the market than durability, quality and strength. How smooth was it’s surface VS how long will it last was the order of the day.

At the bottom of the junk, beneath layers of tainted stones amongst thousands of look-alike gems there sat this one lozenge more unsightly than the rest. Deep lines of imperfection ran down his middle ending in cracks visible enough to any human eye. That alone brought face-value down three notches, “how could I ever get anything from that?” I thought. But even with a facade so stained by his mistakes, his reputation flaking beneath the sheer pressure of the rest- there lay the brightest diamond in all the ruff.

Mined by other collectors, tested and thrown back into the scrap pile, the Diamond could almost be confused for a useless piece of morsel. But to an eye so keen; defects or none, a spade is a spade. In a fit of my hunter-persona, while rummaging through an old collector’s waste, I stubbed my toe on this precious revelation.

I found a diamond in the ruff!

Humbled, fragile and worn out with only traces of his entire journey lacing the fascia, my diamond sat there plain to my eye in desecration. Although another collector has come to pass, snatched my diamond and claimed it for herself, I still have the memories of fragile beginnings of something special. One day, perhaps in the near future, or the long distance I will get my diamond back, in which ever form- and we will be united once again: collector and stone.