As much as I love picking up sea shells …
Really they are nothing more than old bones.
Scenic or harrowing?
The beach is a graveyard of dead half shells. The cause? Probably a carnivorous sea snail or some other predator of the surf. Almost every shell you find has a hole on it somewhere marking where the poor filter feeder lost its life. Happy as a clam? They’d be happier if they had arms and hands to brush themselves clean. Then there are the gulls and terns that are equally adept at puncturing a clams shell to get to the meat. It’s a tough life for the clams on the beach. On the other hand, they’d probably not want to be anywhere else. Especially not on ice being served in a fancy restaurant, as is the fate for many an Apalachicola oyster Up Gulf. If the clams could speak, they’d tell you: “It’s just the price you pay living in paradise.”
