Seashells of life...

The question that lays on my mind tonight is are seashells happier on the beach or on a table? Even though they might not have the “feelings” I still ponder this question. As four unique seashells sit on my worn out red picnic table I stare at their extensive detail and wonder how they feel. I tell Bo every night that a certain part of the beach is off limits, for the small delicate shells are sitting there together and one with each other. I hate the thought of my foot steps on them, for they crush into little pieces. The sound is horrifying and the movie Silence of the Lambs always comes to mind when the description of the lambs crying is being told. I only think about the damage my footsteps created and how something so beautiful and full of color is now demolished into small flakes of nothing. Those once beautiful shells are now crushed into several pieces and blown through the sand.

As Bo and I made our way through the sand dunes tonight I watched his small paw make tracks in the sand. His paw looked so much bigger and as if it belonged to a different dog. It was not the same tracks I have come to known for the last 9 months. The wind was strong and moving the lightweight pieces of sand however, the sand, heavy together made an impact and fought against the wind. The small grains of sand once again made me think about the small broken pieces of a shell. As a Colorado lad you clearly see how the mountains are connected to every rock, tree and animal. Here is no different, however, it seems more complicated.

The ocean has layers and layers of mystery and can create damage or pleasure within a second of time. The palm trees that are not native to Corpus Christi blow hard in the wind and leave remnants of their belong. The birds many of them of all different kinds seem to have a structure and know who is boss on the beach. There is a sign of respect with the all knowing Blue Heron. The smaller birds and even pelicans do not get in the way of the Blue Heron. They remain in one place on the beach where a low tide remains and they are cautious. They watch everything and keep their head moving with every sight of a threat. They know everything. As they take off the effort is incredible. It looks like they need every muscle in their body to get off the ground. They are tall, skinny but powerful. Not just powerful in their presence but in their wing and body span.

All of this ties back to the one question, can a shell feel the difference of their surrounding?? I believe that everything can feel what is beneath them even when the environment has drastically changed.

To end my post, I will use one of my favorite artists, John Denver to tell the rest of the story.......

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