THE SCALLOP SHELL

Sunshine splattered my sunglasses, as I strolled Almonta Beach.
The dog leash straining my fragile fingers.
The tiny scallop shell grazing the shore.
Coral coloured accents stroked the shell.
It was beckoning me to lift it from the damp sand into my grasp.
As I gently flipped the shell
I saw a striking deep purple stare straight back at me,
I was intrigued.
The exterior of the shell was thin grainy sandpaper,
But the inside was like a polished piece of wood.
The size of the shell; so unique.
It was minuscule.
I had never such appreciation for nature,
Something so subtle,
So delicate,
So fragile.
I dropped the shell on the table with a tingalingaling,
It finally was my own.