I could see myself becoming totally addicted to beach-combing if I lived in this part of the world. While on our Mediterranean beaches back home I find traces of human activity, like seaglass and sea tiles, smoothed and beautified by the gentle motion of the waves, on the wide, wild beaches of northern California, nature abounds: shells, sand dollars, seaweed, drift wood and other sea treasures of all sizes and descriptions, resting where water and land meet.
Oh, yes, I'd be an avid beachcomber if I lived here - and in fact I spent a good long time walking up and down the vast beaches searching, my hands full of crusty, sandy, salty finds. I intended to make an August wreath that would celebrate the magnificent Pacific Ocean, and had started arranging driftwood into a base ring before I realized that such a wreath would become a burden on our long road trip. This collection, I decided, would have to reside in our hearts alone.
I left the driftwood and the other treasures where they belonged, on a windy, wave-swept Pacific beach in north California. But their memory is still clear and textured in my heart.
I'll be making a wreath a month this year, using some spur-of-the-moment inspiration on whatever nature offers me at that moment.