The shell seeker

I strolled along a wooden bridge spanning the natural wildlife preserve of Parque Natural Da Ria Formosa (Algarve, Portugal) towards sandy dunes and the winter afternoon sun. Cresting the hill, a pristine clay-coloured beach with waves crashing against the shore lay before me.

Aside from the waves and the occasional seagull’s cry diving into the Atlantic ocean to catch a fish, the beach was void of all other sound. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and followed footsteps in the sand: a medium-sized dog, a galloping horse, someone with a walking stick, little feet walking next to larger feet… They took me far along the beach, past broken shell piles in search of sea glass, driftwood and other unusual finds.

The ocean shore has always been a peaceful retreat for me on such picture perfect days. I can spend hours walking up and down the shore, thinking of really nothing at all. When my pockets are brimming with shells and it’s time to brush the sand off my feet, I leave the beach refreshed with a new view on life and my troubles carried out to sea.

Heading back across the bridge towards the car, sun setting behind me, a couple of Portuguese clam diggers and sandpipers dug through the low tide mud in search of elusive clams. I may have left the beach behind for today, but I look forward to more shell seeking in the future. One day, I will have a little beach house with an ocean view of the sunrise or sunset from the living room and will fill it with fishing floats, shells and sea glass from faraway lands.