Sea Shells by the Sea Shore

Her feet sunk into the damp sand, the sea that washed over them was cool and refreshing. The breeze was soft as it blew through her sundrenched hair, she unconciously fiddled with the numerous colourful bracelets that encompassed her wrist. She felt the crunch of a shell beneath her and compassionately bent down to pick up it's remains. It was a mixture of the deepest and richest purples, blues and greens she'd ever seen, they intertwined, dancing around each other. The girl gently threw the shell into the ocean and continued to walk. No more than two steps later she felt another crunch and once again bent down to observe the next shell, this time an aray of oranges. Tangerine, Sunset, Peach all woven perfectly together. The girl cast the shell aside and proceeded along the shore, as the sea moved away from her ankles something caught her eye. Another shell, a midnight blue with dashes of elaborate yellow, carefully placed. The girl couldn't help but find it odd, she was on a beach yes, but so many shells, buried, in a perfect line? She went on to her hands and knees and began to scrape away the surrounding sand, there must be more to it. Between the undecided ocean and the sand it wasn't an easy task but she managed to clear the area around the shells to reveal a most unexpected sight. A collection of the most indescribably beautiful shells she'd ever seen, intracately set down in paticular patterns, weaves, curves, bends. There were 20, 30 maybe, probably more. She turned to see the other shells she'd so easily discarded, she may only have seen those three shells and nothing more. Her walk would have been over and she'd have felt satisfied. But she saw more, she saw the rest, the bigger picture. And for seeing that, she was all the better.