Beach Scavengers by cogdogblog
posted 12 Apr ’08, 10.12pm MDT PST on flickr
Here on Sanibel Island these bent old white pasty birds work up and down the beach, bent over, constantly poking in the sand, picking up shells, filling up plastic bags, cups, upturned shirts.
The booty is stuffed into suitcases, bags, wasting air freight and jet fuel, destined to be dumped into boxes or drawers upon return to the home grounds of Buffalo, Detroit, Cleveland…
Weird things I have seen while visiting Sanibel island in Florida:
* Weird is wearing shoes on the beach. Sand cries out for bare skin.
* Weirder is shoes and white socks on the beach.
* The Gulf is weird- no waves, just gentle lapping ripples. I miss the surf, no body surfing action at al here.
* What is it about collecting bags of shells? What happens to the tons of shells removed on a daily basis?
ah, body surfing, I used to do that a lot as a kid, now I still do it, I just cannot resist the waves as they take me on a whirl across the sand or the rocks beneath the water.
The shells will be turned into nice lamp ornaments, or surprising gifts for loved ones, or put into boxes with name tags that sound like a 2000 year old language, or they will be put together with all the other shells and thus become a multicultural, multi-timeal beach in someone’s closet, a closet that allows that person to dream of a life that reaches far across everyone else’s imagination.
It was very nice to meet you and you actually come across like the words that were written down for your presentations to be… that was really nice as well.
I am one of those who cannot leave behind a beautiful shell. The ones I collect are given to friends or, more likely, they find a home in an empty martini glass in my bathroom, for decoration.
My grandma brought me some lovely shells from the Virgin Islands when she was visiting my uncle. I still keep them in an old Tupperware container and think of her every time I see them.
So I guess they’re the cheapskate’s answer to chintzy souvenirs. 🙂