- Vol. 04
- Chapter 12
On each beach they've been different, at home there, though washed up gently by lapping waves or thrown by high seas. Now they're at home in my house. Each beach together. Pretty shells from a bay in Minorca, where the sea was freezing and the sun bright hot above. I remember the exhilaration of my swim there. Then there are the large curving shells dived for in Sochi by the son of a Russian family who became good friends. Captured memories now. Those bits of wood from a Scottish loch side now decorate the wall behind this computer. Remember those midges? Oh my! And now all joined by these from the Basque Country. Beautiful oysters that seemingly tried to swallow stones. Beautiful oysters decorated by barnacles and wormy fossils, Now lying on the slate of my hearth. I'll remember that beach with the waves lapping gently and the first sight of something strange. Half hidden. I remember.