Beachcombing Belgium

On our way to catch the ferry in Calais, France, we visited a lovely stretch of beach in Belgium. It was a chilly, sunny day - sounds of seagulls, surf rolling itself at our feet again and again like a mantra. It was wonderful to walk on sand again, to sink into sand dunes, our bodies avalanching to the glossy glow of beach below. 

Hunting for empty razor clam shells -  they look like old Chinese men's fingernails stretching outward  from beneath the sand. Hours later we boarded the ferry with pocketfuls of them.

This is the North Sea, close to the English Channel. Across the water, England. Our new home.

Akychame and Daddy: reminds me of the "Footsteps" poem. 

We watched the barnacles poke out for meals, then hide in a wink.

Little miss celebrity in Hello Kitty bathrobe and "bling"-ful shades.

Windswept, barren loveliness everywhere. Everything buried and unburied by sand and sea.