Shelling. . . my other Passion

Sanibel Island, FL 2016

Sanibel Island, FL 2016

I was the kid who snuck crab shells and body parts into the trunk of my folks’ car at the end of a visit to the Shore. This was the beginning of my obsession with Nature’s treasures – despite the horrific smell after 2 hours in the car and with which Mom was not pleased.

Today I am sitting on a beach in Florida, wrestling with my conscience. The sun, sand, sea breeze and endless horizon revive my desert city – trampled soul. I drink it all in, going from my depleted flat self, to my three-dimensional, fully-inspired, ecstatic self.

I’m in shelling heaven on Sanibel Island, just off-shore from Ft. Myers in the Gulf of Mexico. This is our third visit. My eyes are drawn to the millions of perfectly formed shells in blushing shades of peach, yellow, pink and orange. I itch to reach down and drag my fingers through the drifts of color.

My husband reminds me of the numerous dishes, bowls and odd single glass containers sitting at home, overflowing with shells. The posted rules restrict a visitor to removing one quart of shells. Is that per day? Per week? Per visit? I don’t remember knowing about that rule in the past.

I want to be a good conservator, and leave shells for others to enjoy. I really do! So I’ve decided to limit myself to the color yellow (ha!). . . and writing about it. ~ Wendy

Live Welk, returned to the Gulf.

Live Welk, returned to the Gulf.