The rum is not helping

A very close friend and colleague at work is terribly ill. He went in to have a valve in his heart repaired, he is my age so that is disconcerting enough, but after the operation he had a stroke and he is currently in intensive care. I get random email updates on his condition but spend most of my time dwelling in the unknown.

Today Etel and I had to get out of the house, we were rained in all day yesterday, so we went off to collect shells. Etel is forever looking for the elusive Sunrise shell, I am content with adding new species to our collection of cone shells, augers, and cowries (the picture is of some of the new cones I collected today - Chaldean cone [10 O'Clock], Livid cone [2 O'clock], Cat cone [6 O'clock] and Rat cone [8 O'clock]).

No matter how hard I spent searching for shells, my mind returned to my colleague's health and I (irrationally) spoke to him as I combed the beach sand and waves for shells. I imagined kidney cells reviving, lung cells absorbing oxygen, and most important of all, brain cells reawakening from their hibernation unscathed during the terrible turn of events.

Remember when you were a kid when you would make bets based on the outcomes of uncontrollable events around you such as

"If the next wave crashing on the shore touches my foot, then I will get..."

Well I could not get myself to do that...I was too scared, afraid on how I would interpret the outcome. I only walked the shore and rubbed a beautiful shell fragment as I spoke to my friend through the aether.

The orange scallop shell in the center of this picture is the elusive Sunrise shell of Hawaii. They are sought by everybody and the real locals adorn themselves with beautiful sunrise chokers or sunrise earrings. They are ludicrously expensive to buy and impossible to find. (look at the prices at this one site [drop the menus down to see the prices]). We have arrived at promising beaches an hour after sunrise to find them covered in footprints from people that have already combed the debris line for these shells.

Anyway, Etel has been combing the beaches for weeks in the hope that she will find one. Today we were collecting shells at our favorite site (see the new cone species I collected above) when I told her it was time to leave to pick the kids up from school. Right after I said that I heard her shriek out loud. I knew immediately what the shriek should mean but I did not believe it was possible. I sprinted to her and she told me that a wave pulled some sand back in front of her to reveal this wondrous shell. It is beautiful, huge and almost perfect.

The smaller shells around the Sunrise shell (Langford's Pectin Decatopectan noduliferum) are Judd's pectens (Haumea juddi), delicate and thin compared to the robust sunrise shell.

After dinner tonight I gathered the family up to go down the street to watch the sunset. We humans are fascinated with sunsets. I would guess that is because sunsets seem so final, so monumental and yet immune from human interference. Go to any beach or water's edge and you will always find a crowd there to watch the sun sink into the horizon and hisss as it hits the water. We love to witness the end, with the knowledge that it is really an ephemeral end which will dissipate 12 hours later at sunrise.



Today has been a strange lesson - how a simple shell can make a woman so happy, how no matter how many cone shells I pick up there are new ones to find and most of all, how fragile all of this is, especially ourselves, and we should never, ever assume the sun is coming up the next day.