A close view of tiny shells on a beach in Eleuthera, Bahamas.

Sea shells hold a certain kind of magic, don’t they? Objects of beauty offered from the ocean as gifts. Varying in size, shape, & color, shells remind us of the soothing sound of beach waves, especially when held to the ear. There’s something mystical & mysterious, like the fog that rolls over the water.

Other objects from the sea like sea glass, driftwood, dried kelp or seaweed, urchins, sand dollars, even starfish became prized booty, loot yielded from beachcombing.

Conch shells discovered on the beach in Eleuthera.

You’ll notice that I’m continually returning to the water in my writing, especially the ocean, the sea. There’s something poetic about briny water, like human tears, like the saline composition of the body. Like the original womb in which life grows. Novels about the ocean appeal to me for that reason.

Shells brought back from Eleuthera.

When I was little, we’d visit my mother’s close friend, Miss Greenwood, at her beach cottage in York, Maine. Those vacations were lovely, days spent playing in surf & sand, building sandcastles with functional moats, filled with frothy tidal seawater. My brother Dan & I would build fortified walls to stave off the erosion caused by the tide’s coming in.

And then the seafood. I love lobster, clams, scallops, & haddock, broiled or battered & fried. Such a delicacy, a rare treat. Clambakes. Chowder.

A favorite treat enjoyed when visiting seaside towns or beaches.

When you travel to places like Mexico, where you can sample fresh ceviche made right on the boat, or the Bahamas where you can taste conch salad, or Hawaii where you can partake of poke, you learn how much variety there is in preparing seafood. You develop an appreciation for the creatures who once inhabited the abandoned shells collected on the beach.

It should be said that I do limit how often I eat seafood, given the modern crisis of overfishing our seas. I am mindful of respecting sea life, & so seafood is a very rare treat.

Another conch.

As a child, sorting through shells and grouping them by size, shape, color, & iridescence became a favorite summer pastime. And now as an adult, when I look for a calming activity or place to visit in my mind, I imagine walking on the beach, right at the surf’s edge. The scene offers soothing thoughts to my introvert’s mind. Digging my toes into the wet sand, watching waves erase my toe marks like an Etch-a-Sketch when shaken–these are pleasant memories.

In my mind, I look for smooth flat stones & skip them across the water’s surface, while hearing the sound of crashing waves & seagull cries from above. And I return to my favorite beaches, those summer days, anytime–given the power of imagination.

Another happy place. Where’s your happy place? What calms you, dear introvert?

More shells in Eleuthera.