Here's some pics from the couple of days I stayed on Sanibel Island last week, collecting shells like a mad shell collecting thing:

Morning light on the beach. Why Sanibel Island is a beachcomber's paradise.

I got up before dawn--a feat that is astonishing to those who know my not-a-morning-person essence--carrying a little flash light to hunt my intrepid prey under the cover of nightfall. My prey being empty shells--I don't like taking the live ones, even though that's what real collectors go for.

White shores are calling. Two days were not enough.

And all will turn/To silver glass/A light on the water . . .

Why do the white gulls call? Well, sandpiper's really--they prefer text messaging.
Morning light on the beach. Why Sanibel Island is a beachcomber's paradise.
I got up before dawn--a feat that is astonishing to those who know my not-a-morning-person essence--carrying a little flash light to hunt my intrepid prey under the cover of nightfall. My prey being empty shells--I don't like taking the live ones, even though that's what real collectors go for.
White shores are calling. Two days were not enough.
And all will turn/To silver glass/A light on the water . . .
Why do the white gulls call? Well, sandpiper's really--they prefer text messaging.
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Yay for getting to hike and explore.
Yeah, I know the beaches, or lack thereof, can vary depending on the rock content and whether there is reefing.
Palms are silly, silly trees that make me happy. And that's the reason I never thought I could survive in the midwest--I fear being landlocked and unable to journey to the ocean in a day, even though I don't get out to it more than a time or two some years. *hugshugshugs* I hope you get to go coastal soon.
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