Spent a few hours at the beach on Sanibel today, one of the premiere shelling beaches. While Paul fished the turquoise waters, I waded, looked for shells, and watched turnstones and other shorebirds wander unafraid among the human visitors, the birds seeming just as interested in the ever-shifting mounds of shells as we were.
Each wave sweeps in
fresh shells for me
and sandpipers to pick through.
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