Ponte Vedra Beach always has an immense amount of shell beds that makes the beach glow with texture and beautiful golden colors. Whenever I get on A1A the temptation to just keep going south to the only public access area for Ponte Vedra always takes over me. Yesterday when I went, the sand was cold and there was only a few people I could see with my eye for miles. Once I started my journey of my hunt for sharks teeth, I realized something. This is stupid and small but I need to start writing about my life and thoughts more. But when I’m scanning the beach for sharks teeth I am paying attention to such small detail of everything on the beach. I’ll compare it to when you just finish meditating and you have to slowly come out of it, wiggling your toes and waking up your ears to every sound. You just start to notice every sound and when you zone in on one, its so loud and you start to wonder where it is in relation to where you are. As I was kneeling down to look in a bed of shells for anything that resembled black triangles, something so simple like running my fingers through cold and wet shells felt so therapeutic. Over the past 2 years I have really learned to appreciate and fall in love with the little things, so there I was kneeling over a bed of shells running my hands through them and obsessing over the uniformity and originality of the shells. I have been struggling to find inspiration for not only my day to day life to keep me going, but creatively and purpose lately. I’m trying to stay very aware of the things around me, not let inspiration just walk right past me but I have no idea what I’m doing so its tough. This felt good, I should try this more often.