I open my eyes to the bright sunlight, so bright it washes the colors out of the world. The ocean in the distance sparkles in the dazzling light, luring me closer. The waves on the shore cast their white nets onto the sand of the beach, pulling shells and scuttling sea birds deeper into the surf. There are puffy white clouds sitting on the horizon, like giants benignly overlooking the exploits of the waters.
Continuing my journey closer to the ocean, the scorching sands ooze between my toes, until I reach the high tide mark. There, I must pick my way through the dried seaweed and shells the ocean has left behind. Here the sand is firmer, still hot beneath my toes. The closer I get to the casting waves, the firmer and cooler the sand becomes. The shells are sometimes sharp beneath my toes. I look down at their sharp edges, rounded curves, and soft colors.
One shell catches my eye and I crouch down to look and to touch. It is softly curved on one side, with a gentle concave hollow in it’s center. In it’s tiny heart, a soft pink bursts forward, extending it’s blush to the outer reaches of the pearly shell. My fingers trace the pink from the center to the edges, feeling the smooth surface which has been warmed by the sun. I lift it from the sand and turn it over. Through the grit clinging to the outside of the shell, I can see the dark grey surface is rough. Some small sea creature has left it’s outer skeleton adhered to the outside of the shell. The outside of the shell is rough, dark, and dirty…seemingly nondescript and unnoticeable. The protected inner soul of the shell is smooth, luminescent, and blooming with a soft rose color. I return the shell to the sand and stand again.
The seagulls are wheeling and diving in the sky above me, filling the air with their wingbeats and cries. The tiny sandpipers and other scuttling birds continue to follow the waves, in and out, in their dance of hunger and satisfaction. They move further down the coast as I walk closer to the waves. Their long thin beaks peck at the sand, following the tiny sea creatures burrowing into the sand where the ocean meets the land. The tiny bubbles of their passing mark where they’ve been as easily as the hunting birds reveal their presence.
