Back a couple of years, a beachcombing report was a regular part of my blog. Then life got in the way of beachcombing. Bad idea. I need to reverse that trend fifth or sixthwith. Now that I have access to a path again, I can do something about it – although the path gave a little surprise in that recent rains dislodged a lump of sandstone about the size of a large version of one of those JoJo tank thingies and dumped it slap in the middle of the steps, busting quite a few. I didn’t get a picture, alas, before a team of local labour was pointed at it and told not, under any circumstances, to damage it in any way. By the next day, of course, it had been reduced to tiny bits and removed.
Anyway, armed with an available grandkid, I actually got to the beach again and we ranged over a very unpromising-looking expanse. Tides have currently (haha) created steep sandbanks which are as mean as the commercial banks when it comes to providing interest. It takes a brave and resolute shell to ride a wave all the way up the slope and then stick around without being washed straight down again – repeat cycle until reduced to shingle.
Still, she got a good rock shell, and I found two cowries. One of the latter was in that pristine glossy state – which tends to photograph rather badly because of the reflection. This was the best I could do.
And then, propped on a false cockle to show it up better.
© Colonialist (WordPress) November 2015