These are some tumbled seamarbles.  The collection pic was sent by avid beach wanderers Kim and Dave who are lucky enough to live in Hawaii near the beach.  Kim's theory on the marbles is: "The elementary school is on the other side of the highway, then nothing but beach on the beach side. There are a few underground drains that flow into the ocean by the school. So, we think, based on the kind of marbles they are, that they are from way back in the day...kids playing marbles on the playground. I only find them certain times when the sand is all washed away and the rock piles are what's left. This past year, it was only one time that those rocks were exposed."  

What wonderful anthropological wrack combing.

Andrew's Favorite

This is Andrew's favorite. All of these scallops are from the Outer Banks of North Carolina (thank you Sharon Gilchrest O'Neill). The tiny ribbed clam is from Pawley's Island, South Carolina. I talk about sorting and how sorting builds the fundamental skills of science--observing, comparing organizing classifying. But "how we choose which objects to group together is ultimately a creative act, the work of the artist. The beach becomes the locus of art and science to dance together, to intermingle and connect."

This is all hard to think about when the dire news from the school district came out today about the drastic budget cuts heading our way. Superintendent Garcia also wrote an impassioned editorial in our Chronicle which was well spoken. I am working with a great group of Lowell parents working to raise awareness and raise much needed funds to supplement the decimated school budget next year. I had a thought today: Public school is no longer free. It is ridiculously cheap, but our legislatures and state governments are telling us that it is no longer free. We MUST put something into the pot to keep it alive. It might be $20 or $200 or $2,000, but it is not free. This is a sad state of affairs.

A New Book

I received two advanced copies of my new book yesterday afternoon. I happened to be home when the FedEx guy knocked at the door. I opened the yellow manila envelope and there was the book, a foreign object to me, the author who had slaved over each image, cut out cardboard to determine trim size and worked and reworked every aspect of the text, photographs and design of the book.

The book, a real book, is an amazing thing and until you hold it in your hands, you cannot really approximate what it will be like. It is a great and surprising moment.

My book, Beach: A Book of Treasure, is 7” high and 11” wide. Despite all my Indesign and Photoshop and pdf files, with their ever present rulers, I can only truly feel these dimensions now with the book in hand. The added length of the page (from my previous books) gives a delightful heft to the 144 pages as you flip through from front to back. The blue case color and the soft beige endpapers are cheery and soothing--something we could not be totally sure of despite the back and forths and changing and choosing of color chip--until the book is in hand.

So now the book and I are getting to know each other all over again (I feel like a Sesame Street character) but its true.

The best endorsement of the book to me so far is that Andrew (age 12) came home tired and hungry yesterday evening, but on seeing the book sitting on the entry table had to go through the entire thing, clearly captivated, before even coming to the dinner table. He then went through the entire book again after dinner. His favorite page is a spread late in the book of a mass of grey-ribbed scallops with a single, small, white clam shell for contrast.

What more could I want from a book?

Someone else is thinking about all those lost traps

Finally, someone is thinking about all the derelict traps left on the sea floor. (NYTimes Nov 27) I wrote about these for Beach: a Book of Treasure in relation to all the buoys found on the beach: they all were attached to something that is now lost, left on the ocean bottom to corrode. Thinking of all these lost traps reminds me of how I feel when I see a map of all the space-junk out in orbit around our earth. "It would be interesting to drain the ocean and see what's down there," said Holly Bamford, head of the Marine Debris Program at NOAA.

Inukshuk from Nova Scotia by Josette d'Entremont

Josette d'Entremont sent this image of an "Inukshuk" from Nova Scotia. This one is from near Cape Fouchu Lighthouse, Yarmouth, NS. She is a true lover of the beach, claims she has every stone and shell represented in my two books, Beach Stones and Seashells and gains sustenance from beachcombing the way we all gain sustenance from bok choy. I understand so completely.

She writes:

I am a native of a small Acadian fishing village called 'Pubnico' (means "cleared land for farming"), which is located at the SW part of Nova Scotia, Canada on the Lighthouse Route. I live in Halifax (capital of NS) and am an amature photographer, historian, geologist and lover of the seashore (a beachcomber all my life!) and a preservationist for lighthouses. Our Nova Scotia shores have billions of years-old fossils, stones and shells.

"INUKSHUK" means "likeliness of a person" in the Inuit language. It is the symbol of the Human Spirit. For centuries, stone figures, built in the shape of men by the Inuits, have guided lonely travelers in North America and the Artic along the right paths to food, water and shelter. 'Inukshuks' represents strength, leadership and motivation. Some people even say that it represents "I was here". I love making these stone figures as I walk the shoreline, it's fun, inventive --you can build them in any shape or form, using whatever rocks you find) and very meaningful. I also cannot stroll along the beach without picking up a shell, waiting to be admired and wondering what stories it could tell me; where it came from, what did it see?

There is so much to see by the sea!

Thank you, Josette

Finding Love

A recently married couple I didn't know very well came over to pick up this print which was commissioned as a wedding gift by a mutual and very dear friend. We were hanging around chatting and I couldn't believe they were only just beginning this journey called marriage. We joked a bit and then they said that yes they were so happy and were also pregnant. Wow, starting another huge journey...I put my hands in my pockets(I happened to still have my jacket on)...and there was a heart stone--dark and smooth, left there from the last roam on the beach--and I just couldn't not give it to them right there. So they left with their lovely print titled: Love is Where You Find It and a lovely heart stone. Happy Journeys!

Point Reyes

Happy New Year,

We went for a magnificent hike last Friday, down from the youth hostile, past a most magnificent, solitary Eucalyptus tree and onto the far southern end of Limantour Beach. Once on the beach, the rivulets coming out to the ocean were spectacular. Deedee (My middle daughter) was intent on getting as far as "Sculpture Beach" so she kept far ahead of us urging us on. Ken (my husband) found two complete crab shells with intensely purple insides. Along with a rib from some sea creature (probably a seal) and various other bits of seaweed, he made a very funny face on a log. Always more wondrous treasure to stick in the pockets.

We timed the waves right to scooch around from cove to cove where the rocks have eroded into keyholes and secret caves. Quite amazing and we felt so alone in our secret spots.

The sun emerged for our hike home, where, exhausted, we set out our treasures--stones with stripes, gnarled driftwood and assorted other items--on the counter to see. A fantastic exhibit of a magical day.

This bit of dried squiggly seaweed was found by Deedee...I thought it looked like an R. Crumb eyeball