Collecting seashells

“Later that day, I observed as my 4-year-old filled up his bucket with his own shells. He examined each one up close to determine whether or not he wanted to bring it home with us. I saw him take perfectly shaped shells and throw them back to the high seas. I watched him take broken shells with jagged edges and irregular holes and place them carefully into his bucket.”

“I remember on one of our first treks on the beach here in Los Organos finding a large cowry shell in excellent condition between the rocks. It's the largest shell I've ever found in my life. I was flabbergasted because usually the shells here get broken up on all the rocks and don't make it intact to the beach, not that size anyway.”

“On my early morning strolls I couldn’t stop myself from searching for a few to take back to the beach house for him. I splashed through the lapping waves and grabbed shells out of the surf—tossing the broken ones back as I sought out a coveted “keeper.”