Dear Graham,
Another special day brought us to a beautiful beach famous for the sand dollars scattered along its shore. Rentia’s friend Doug took us there in his pickup truck. We drove down a long-paved road bordered by emerald-green meadows, grazing cattle, horses, and wide-open pastures.
Our friend Jose had told Tom and me that the rainy season would transform the landscape, and he was right. Fields that had been brown only weeks ago seemed to turn bright emerald green almost overnight. Large trees with enormous fan-like leaves shaded parts of the road and meadows, and from time to time we caught sight of fine horses, cattle, and even a beautiful estate with walls, gates, and a house perched on a distant hill.
We arrived at the beach around 10:00 a.m. at low tide. Only a few other people were there, and the beach was so vast that they disappeared within seconds.
We began walking along the shoreline, and almost immediately Doug found a sand dollar. He has a good eye for them. Soon Rentia found one, and then Tom and I started finding them as well. I found a particularly large one lying upside down. When I turned it over, I was thrilled by its size and sturdiness. A year ago, we had found sand dollars on Las Lajas Beach, but those were smaller and far more delicate than the ones we were discovering here near Pedasi.
I also noticed something I had never seen before—impressions of sand dollars in the wet sand. I wondered if living sand dollars might be hidden beneath those markings. Rentia thought it was possible, though she also suggested that a sand dollar could have burrowed elsewhere and left the impression behind. When I got home, I researched a little and it is possible the pattern belonged to a living sand dollar just beneath the surface, its shape showing through a thin layer of wet sand. It’s also possible that one had recently moved away, leaving its outline behind. Another possibility is that an empty shell, had been pressed into the sand, creating the distinctive pattern.
Doug was a little frustrated because he said there were fewer sand dollars than he was used to finding. He thought it might have something to do with the tide. I, however, was delighted. Not only were we finding sand dollars, but there were beautiful shells everywhere.
One thing that continues to surprise me is how each beach has its own unique treasures. I have never found the same kind of shells on one beach that I found on another. Destiladeros Beach has plenty of shells, but not the same varieties I discovered here. This beach seemed to have an entirely new collection waiting to be uncovered. There were lovely spiral shells, traditional fan-shaped scallop shells, and many others in shades of pink, cream, red, brown, and even bright orange.
The beach itself seemed endless. Hundreds of tiny red crabs scurried across the sand as we walked. With every step, there was something new to notice.
I had so much fun on this adventure. With an armful of shells, I walked with Doug and Rentia to the end of the cove. There, on a hillside overlooking the beach, sat a charming cottage-like home with a deck, a hammock, and a boat pulled up on the sand below. It looked like the perfect vacation retreat for some lucky family.
From that stretch of beach, we went swimming. I piled my collection of shells on the shore near where I thought I had left my swim cover-up. The water was sandy near the beach, but farther out it remained shallow and was dotted with sharp rocks that kept bumping against my feet. I quickly learned that floating on my back with my feet raised was the best way to avoid cuts and bruises. As I drifted along, I discovered cool pockets of water that were wonderfully refreshing.
When I finally came out of the water, I couldn’t find my shells. I was sure I had left them near a rock by my belongings, but they were gone. When Tom joined me, I told him I thought the waves must have carried them away. I was genuinely sad to think that all my treasures had been lost.
Later, as we walked back along the cove, Tom spotted a pile of shells and asked if they were mine. They were! I had simply left them farther down the beach than I remembered. There they were, waiting patiently for me.
I was tickled to have recovered my collection and delighted to return home with both my shells and sand dollars—a perfect ending to another wonderful day of exploring Panama’s beaches.
With love,
CC
