Life is too busy, and the wifi too troublesome, to leave more than a bare trace of what we have been up to. We’ve become beachcombers for a while, abusing our skins with sun and salt, and our hair with salt winds. In the once-bustling town of Dhanushkodi we now found the oddest beaches. Quicksand and good beach are mixed with each other as the sea erodes the coastline at one place, and deposits sands in another.
We found masses of cockle shells in all colours. Was this colour (featured photo) due to oil from the fishing boats, or natural? I don’t know enough about sea shells to be able to give an answer. And the odd fish that had washed up? I guessed it must be a deep-water fish, from the hard skeleton that it has. I’d always thought that fish bones would sink, not float to land. I’m wrong, but why?
Bits of plastic are inevitable on beaches now. Sometimes it is a large bottle like the one in the photo above. But more often they are smaller things: eroded pieces of thermocol, a little part of something which you mistake for a shell until you pick it up, frayed bits of nylon rope, tootbrushes, sandals. Almost anything that we make goes into the sea, and then a little bit of it comes back.