Even on the coldest day of winter, I can pick up a shell we collected last summer, and still feel the grit of the sand and smell the salt of the ocean.
Even on the coldest day of winter, I can pick up a shell we collected last summer, and still feel the grit of the sand and smell the salt of the ocean.
While collecting shells, my sense of scale shifts from the vast to the small. I start to notice how much nature is packed in all around me.
While collecting shells, my sense of scale shifts from the vast to the small. I start to notice how much nature is packed in all around me.
Searching for shells lets me experience the shore in a new way. As I comb the sand, my perception changes.
Searching for shells lets me experience the shore in a new way. As I comb the sand, my perception changes.
When most people collect shells, they hope to find whole, perfect ones. But I prefer the broken ones that have been dashed against the shore. These shells have stories to tell.
When most people collect shells, they hope to find whole, perfect ones. But I prefer the broken ones that have been dashed against the shore. These shells have stories to tell.