Delicate wonders of a woman who has found herself on the coast of her country. She wades her feet through the shallow ripples of the sea, sending electric chills up her body. She has no need to be here, neither anywhere else. Seeking mindful explorations of new familiarities.
Far from its origins deep within the seas, tritons trumpet washes ashore. It’s home lapping up around it like a comforting hug: “come back to me” whispers the sea as it pushes the conch away. Softly it rolls further from its reality, invisible layers of salt slowly appearing in its grooves and crevices, losing all sense of feeling saturated.
Curiosity gets the better of her as she’s drawn towards the shell. Its hypnotic patterns luring her forward to discover its secrets and whispers of the ocean’s depths. What magic has this spiritual capsule encountered and what memories does it carry, tucked away within its internal spirals.
She bends down to experience the ornate beauty up close. Its natural twists and turns creating its magnificent structure. Solid and strong underneath her soft touch – exploring the grooves and undulations coinciding with its adorned patterns and designs. Appreciating its purity.
Cradling her new divulgement, she wades through the shallows of its inhabitants. She ponders on its journey and how it made its way to her in this contingency. What things has it seen within the abundant swell of the deep? What other worldly beings reside beneath the glass surface?
Laying next to the shell she finds a sense of serenity. Its presence being so large beside her brings a calming through her mind and body. Being part of a world where she and something as beautiful as this can share the same space leads her to a divine feeling like none before. Knowing its honest place is to be here amongst sand and sea: for it to be anywhere else would be un-natural and untrue.