I stopped collecting shells some time ago. I didn’t intend to do it. Perhaps it was because my girls tended to leave each beach trip with buckets of shells which we then had to wash, dry and sort. So I just stopped looking. They did enough beach combing for all of us.
But the reality is I love hunting for treasures on the sand. I am in awe of the colour, shapes and textures of each fragile shell. The pattern and composition. The unexpected act of mindfulness and connection to our creator the beach walk brings.