I sat on the beach this morning about seven thirty with my coffee and watched the walkers, swimmers, joggers.....there's a whole busy life going on by the Gulf on Anna Maria Island. I started thinking about all the people looking for shells, filling ziplocs or old grocery bags, or even holding them gingerly in their hands or pockets. What draws us to look for shells? Outside of the collectors, there's a lot of us just doing it because we're at the beach, and there are shells to be found. I myself have done this countless times over the years, and still do. My favorites to find are sand dollars and the shark's eye. As I watched the people, I wondered about them. Is it done for just a distraction? Is it done to coincide with what's going on in our minds? Are we looking for a missing piece to make ourselves whole? Some people just pause and look, others bend down, some use their big toes as a sand mover. And what happens to those shells? Do they stay left behind when the vacation is over? Or do they go home for some token of a seaside experience? When we find the shell again at our homes, do our senses fill up once again with that time when we were by the seaside? Maybe we come across it in the kitchen junk drawer. Or on a bathroom shelf. Or stuffed in an old coffee can with lots of other things, sitting on a ledge on a shelf going into your basement. Maybe it's our way of saving bits of our lives in the hopes that on another day we cannot know, someone will find the shell and we will be remembered. Are we looking for a special shell, or just something to make us special? Just my musings on this warm February morning by the seaside. I know I'll keep collecting. Chris