She Sells Seashells by the Seashore

Presenting the Seashell Class of 2020!

Over the past 4 winters, I've collected seashells while walking the beach.  Yes, this does mean you pretty much walk with your head down and/or learn to scan the sand while strolling.  I do a combination of both.

What has fascinated me is how, on some days, a plethora of one type of shell will wash up on the beach--and then you won't see it for days or weeks or, for me, the rest of the season.  A couple years ago, there were multitudes of a shell.  This year, I could barely find any of them.  Ah, the magnificence and fickleness of Mother Nature, although I'm sure there are scientific reasons behind this.

So, here we go!  Let's begin with the 2020 Prom Queen, Valedictorian and Salutatorian: The Lightning Whelk, accompanied by the Princesses, the Buttons.

This shell was buried in the sand at the edge of the water.  I saw the very bottom sticking up, gave it a yank, and voila!

Next up, the coquina shells.    

In mid-March, there were 3 delightful kids here with their parents, a pair of brothers.  The parents were very careful about social distancing, which those of us most at risk greatly appreciated.  They decorated the sidewalks with lovely chalk designs, chased the plentiful reef gekkos and, all in all, added light to those early dark days.  One of the boys alerted me to the fact that the "Coquinas are running!" and indeed they were.  Enlarge the picture to see all the beautiful colors of these tiny shells.  What I didn't know, oh neophyte shell collector that I am, was that little tiny snails live inside the coquina.  I had brought them into the kitchen, soaking in a bowl of water, and within 48 hours both the Spousal Unit and I noticed a fishy scent permeating the room.  Yes, it was the coquinas.  I took them outdoors and cleared out the shells.

Might as move on to the other shells that earned me the title of Snail Killer among my children: Fighting Conch

If you have ever gone shelling on Sanibel Island, Fighting Conches are extremely common there.  Not so much a couple hours north here on 

Belleair Beach.  Actually, the Clearwater area beaches are not known as good shelling beaches so I'm very grateful about the multitude and variety of shells collected this year.  I found most of these one Sunday afternoon, a couple days after the winds had blown hard through the area.  And, true to the title foisted upon me, they had snails in them.  I kept them in a bucket of sea water for a few days until it became clear their numbered days had run out.  They were easy to clean and I took the remnants to the sand for the gulls to enjoy.  Ah, the Circle of Life.

These are called Pectin Raveneli, evidently difficult to find as a pair.

I don't believe I've found quite so many, nor so many intact over the past few winters.  If the shell is not intact, I don't collect it.  (Picky, picky, picky)  Like the Fighting Conches, I'd get particularly excited about finding one of these.

Is this a shark tooth?  Or isn't it?  The Spousal Unit says no.  Our neighbors here say yes.  You decide.

Welcome please, to our stage, Elegant Dosinia

This is another shell variety that had its day in the sunshine--or at the shore's edge.  One of our neighbors also noticed a plethora of these one particular day.  Truly, you couldn't take a step without seeing multiple Elegant Dosinias.  Fortunately I was wearing shorts with pockets so I could gather them up.  I collected the bulk of these on that particular day.

Nope, not the holidays, but these shells are called Jingles.

These come in a variety of colors.  They are quite shiny in the sand.

On occasion, the best you can find is a shard of a shell that found its way to the sand.

I think these are True Tulip; Nutmeg; Junonia and you got me.  I picked them up because I caught my eye and I didn't think I had previously seen these.

These were brand new to me this year: Turkey Wing.

Many shells have a white calcium film on them.  According to The Google, there are a variety of ways (once you've already executed the snails AKA The Snail Killer) to remove the film, uncovering the beautiful colors underneath.  I tried a couple different ways, ending up dipping shells into a mixture of water and muriatic acid.  The Turkey Wings benefited most from this procedure.

The Combo Pack: Florida cones, lettered olive, Florida auger

Two years ago, the lettered olives were plentiful on the sand.  

This year, not so much.  

The Slipper Shell

The most interesting facet of this shell is on the backside (see below)

The name on their diploma?  Van Hyning's Cockle

Many of these had black rimming (thank you, Capt. Obvious)

Spiny Jewel Box and Kitten's Paw

The little ones on the bottom are the Kitten's Paw.  Last year the Spiny Jewel Box was the 2019 Queen of Belleair Beach.  There were still a fair number on the sands in 2020 but not in the abundance they washed up last year.

Not edible, but the large ones are known as the Atlantic Cookie shell.  The smaller ones are known as Florida Prickly Cookie.

Not shells.

These bits of rocks all had unusual colors or something else (what?) that, when they washed up on the beach, drew me to them.

I thought these were Big Cocina.  I think I'm wrong.

From what I can discern, these are Sunray Venus shells.

Finally--we'll call these Prom Kings.  Bits of coral.

And there we have it.  Friday, we head back to Minnesota where, I'm thinking, I might have to use The Google to figure out what to do with this collection, other than share with my grands.

Finally--Thank you, God, for the ocean.

The author does not want to be held to the accuracy of shell identification.  Using The Google, she has attempted to match taken photographs with a number of charts purporting to identify shells.  Corrections gladly accepted.