Growing up in San Diego, I used to beachcomb with my mom. We’d walk slowly, staring down at the sand at our feet with the sound of waves and seabirds in the background, looking for sand dollars and interestingly shaped shells. It was calming. Mesmerizing. We’d lose track of time.
So when I found myself sunburned this past summer after an intended 15 minutes of picking up trash on the beach that turned into a calming, mesmerizing hour of filling up a tin pail provided by an environmentally conscious surf shack, I realized beach cleanups could be the new beachcombing.
It reminded me of a time, a couple of summers ago, when I had become equally immersed in scouring the ocean floor with a mask and snorkel, looking for plastics and collecting them in a tightly knit mesh bag. At that beach clean-up, organized by Surfrider Oahu, I thought seeking trash while snorkeling could be the new underwater treasure hunting.
Both activities have implications far beyond pleasant hours in or near the sea, making me feel good about how I spent my time even after it had past.
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