When in Geraldton, in the Midwest of Western Australia, I often find myself grabbing a quick lunch at St Georges Beach while seated in my car. I angle myself comfortably, to watch the distinctive trees. In the still of the moment, they look like they are responding to a sea breeze. They are poised, but do not break.
During the last trip, the trees took me where I’ve wanted to be each time I visit this sea city. Just beyond the beige.
Is white a different shade of beige? I’m not sure but the difference is remarkable.
I zoomed in for a closer look, and saw so much more. In a cup of a shell, there were smaller, tinier shells.
Some fused with coral.
My first blue shell!
A sea sponge, as distinctive as a hairdo.
Thousands of broken and whole shells, pieces of coral too.
A translucent shell, agape.
I missed the details on the countless trips I’ve made.
Moving from the beige to beyond, I returned home and read up on shells. There is so much about them I do not know and have yet to learn.
What I did learn is, shells once belonged to living creatures. They are remnants of what was and become footprints in the sand.
Just like memories.
Until next time
a dawn bird