A Buried Doubloon

Ahoy! I set me sights past the green patch and marched me silver boots down the garden trail. What should gleam in the loose soil but a round, shiny trinket! Dropping to me knees, I dug in with me trusty hook, sending dry crumbs of dirt flying across the path. Out tumbled a polished copper washer, round as a full moon and heavy as a pirate's fortune. I polished the grit off against me chest until it shone, then set it upright against a pebble like a proper trophy. Every grand voyage begins with a single piece of eight!