Here’s what I like: seashells, maps, September, consistency. And now, introducing…my sand collection! Regrettably, my sand collection is incomplete. This is all my own fault. For the longest time I made a conscious decision to NOT collect sand. “Then I’ll have to do it everywhere and it will be a ‘thing,'” I thought. “I can’t be bothered.” Mainly, I couldn’t think of a chic way to display sand, so while standing on foreign shores I’d look out across the beach and think, “Nope, not taking this with me.”
Then I started depositing Pensacola shells into a tiny cork-topped honey bottle. Soon afterwards I discovered these similar bottles at a craft store and I’ve been kicking myself ever since. Do I have sand from the Sahara where it touches the Pyramids of Giza? From Alexandria? From the shores around the White Cliffs of Dover? From Galveston Island, Texas? From the Red Sea? The secluded cove in the Bahamas where Chris asked me to marry him? No. But I do have sand from Malaysia, both coasts of Australia, and the Southernmost tip of Continental Asia.


