Until last month, my beach combing experiences have been limited to the Oregon and California coast. That means for the whole of my life, finding a non-broken seashell was considered a major treasure score. If it was a non-broken seashell bigger than my thumbnail…well, stop the presses and behold the most amazing seashell..ever.
So imagine me, deprived of ever finding a seashell whole enough or big enough to hear the waves in, on South Andros Island, suddenly surrounded by mountains of big beautiful seashells. It made me want to box all those conch shells up, ship them to the Oregon coast and each night I could cruise up and down the beaches dropping a bit of seashell awesomeness along the way for kids to find in the morning.
I think that would be way better than the Easter bunny.