The Flying Shells

A Pitch to the Oncoming Tide

Rocks with ocean waves crashing

The fish market around the corner has stuffed scallop on the shell.  Each week, I buy one shell and some salmon.  I could get another shell to save for the next night, but know that I would eat both in one sitting, so I only get one.  The shells are large and bright white. 

Initially, to keep them out of the landfill, I saved the shells with the idea of crushing them to enrich my garden soil.  They are hard to crush.  I now have about 15 shells, waiting.

Then, I had the idea of throwing them back into the oncoming tide to be crushed by the sea.  But clandestinely, because it looks like you’re throwing trash into the water.  I set out for my beloved ocean trail and upon arrival, grabbed half of the shells I brought, to test my theory.   

The tide was low.  This was better because at high tide the shells would land closer to the cliffs.  I imagined the shells not going far enough, and someone saying, “These shells don’t belong here.”  And someone else saying, “I saw some girl throwing something into the water the other day.”  And the park ranger waiting for me at my car.

Low tide meant I had to walk farther out onto the slippery rocks to get as close to the water as possible.  But first, getting down off the cliff.  There are one or two places where you can gingerly climb down, careful not to slide off the mud and gravel slope.  And then, having to decide whether to step onto the slippery rocks, or perform a jungle gym because the rocks are so far apart.  Then, when you’re down there, it’s hard to remember exactly the best way to climb up.

Next is to throw the shells into the water without people seeing me.  The people on the cliff always look down at the people on the rocks, who look like ants.  It was late afternoon and most people brave enough to venture out into the cold were in high school, maybe college, too busy taking pictures of themselves. 

I secured my footing and stood closest to the water.  The waves were crashing beautifully.  I took one shell out and flung it.  It sailed so fast and so free, pitching, curving and cutting perfectly into the waves.  One, two, three, four.  Done in a flash.

Elated, because you can’t believe what a problem these shells have become, I made my way back up the cliff.  Walked back to the car and put the rest of the shells in my pocket.   Scrambled down and sailed the very last, into the oncoming tide.  Next time, I will definitely savor each throw.  They fly so beautifully.

With that done, I sat for a long time watching the tide coming in, dreaming about recording the crashing water some early morning at dawn when no-one is around.  And finally getting to throw in a few shells, on my own watch.