There is something about the salt water worn beauty of a rounded stone, a bleached and broken shell, sun-dried seaweed or maybe a salty seagull feather. When found, just as a wave left the behind, they are beautiful in a way that a hand could never replicate. Waking up recently on a wild and remote beach, we walked down to the shore in a thick fog that lit everything with a soft but saturated intensity. Receding waves had left trails around single stones and a light rain was dotting rocks with wet polka dots. All around was the simplest, wildest and most temporary array of beauty.
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