When I find a white weather-washed shell on the beach I decide its beauty is worth a series of photos. It has that bleached look that comes from time in the sun that peels away layers to a sometimes dimmed pattern within. From every angle you see new artistry: tiny holey dots, scallops, frilled ridges, curves, elliptical apertures, an intricate design of coils and curls and circles and borders.
There is a log in the early morning shade falling from the headland, also weather bleached. After my brief dip, while J is still riding waves, I settle down and place my treasure on the sand and let the camera peruse it.