Another shell
“Another shell, really?”, he says.
Yes, but look, I say. Look. This one is different. Look how the colours are grey and black and white. And cream. And speckled sand.
And how the ridges and grooves are at first square and wide, how gradually they smooth and deepen, undulating like the waves they once called home.
Look. Look there are more waves, they rise and fall, perpendicular to the ridges and grooves. Look how they seem to pull the colours across in an arc, like the waves pull the sand and debris in an arc as they rise and fall, as they advance and recede.
Look here, look underneath, where a small sea creature with consciousness beyond my comprehension once lived. Look where it shines, this small patch of shell, reflecting the light. Here where an incomprehensible creature adhered to its home.
Look at the tide that rises and falls, that advances and recedes. That foams and frolics across the sand, almost sweeping away my carefully selected, collected shell as I carefully place it, to capture its beauty.
My feet and trousers are wet. My phone is wet. It was worth it.
Look.
This was a lovely post Emily. Thank you for switching comments back on.
So you've been in Spain with your family. Sounds like a wonderful break.
Growing up on the beach in the North Island of NZ I loved the different types of shells.
Now living by the lake in the South Island I choose a stone to take home with me after my morning refreshing dip. I always give thanks as am wary of "taking". I collect the stones in a bowl at home and they are a reminder of how important it is to do good things for yourself - cold swims, immersions in nature, celebrating the beauty.
You capture the beauty of the shells so well. I could never photograph like that. 💛
Wonderful, Emily - both text and photographs. This is like me on any beach, or below any sea cliff. You capture it perfectly...
Best Wishes from Australia - Dave :)