I have a particular fondness for scallop shells and have a large box full of them, but I also adore those enormous shells one is only blessed with finding rarely. The memories they dredge up and the sound of the sea. Occasionally a bit of sand comes out after you've owned it many years. There's something a bit special about the way that a beautiful shell washes onto the shore just for you.
I love telling the story of how I found my first scallop shell...
I was on a scout camp and we were at the beach. I had forgotten goggles, but my friend had hers. We were searching for shells by sticking our heads under water, and she had an obvious advantage. Well, she found a really beautiful mother of pearl shell, and I was so jealous I picked up the first shell I felt - a particularly ugly one in fact - and tried to coax her to swap, I was at a disadvantage, after all.. She refused my offer, and dejected, I went back into the surf, and hopelessly felt around for a shell like hers. My hand landed on something smooth. I scooped it up, expecting disappointment, but as the sand fell away, it revealed a stunning, white scallop shell. I ran onto the shore in sheer joy and triumph, and showed every single parent. My 'friend' then strode up, and proposed a swap, however, it was my turn to decline with "I think I'll hold on to this one." Victory was mine. And I still own that shell with pride.
No comments:
Post a Comment