Sea shells draw you in. Particularly if you are walking slowing and thoughtfully along the beach.
Not seeing anything in particular, my eyes can drift along, seeing the dots of white or various shades as part of the sandy landscape, then suddenly through the blur, I see a shell that is a little different.
We are hardwired to spot differences. The new, unique and novel are always interesting whether it be a new song, a new dish on the menu of your favorite restaurant or a new shell that appears before us on the sand.
Even the most common shell is a piece of art. The color shades, the fine texture and shapes are all unique. On some shores, the shells will all reflect a dark blue color and in a different location the same shell might be soft purple fading to pink. Some are heavy and some are translucent and as light as a feather.
I pick up shells along my walk and keep them in my hand. I stop, look out at the ocean and breathe, noticing the sea air and discover the strong smell of drying seaweed. I listen and although the surf is making a constant roar with waves crashing down, water onto water, I can also hear seagulls and children calling to each other. I look at the shells, and try to choose just one to keep. I have so many.
Later, I take the shell I’ve chosen and place it on my desk. Once, it was the home of a small animal and now I enjoy it’s delicate beauty. I close my eyes for a moment and take a trip back in my mind to that shoreline. I can smell the sea weed and hear the ocean crashing. I can take this moment with me, wherever I go and enjoy it each time I see the shell.