Be it created by the tide, an ocean wave —or a person, beauty continues to surround us on a sandy beach or a dune. From sight, smell, sound and touch, our senses are invariably awakened. Watching sea birds, collecting shells, driftwood or simply contemplating a sunset make for both serene moments and simple joys, often on a primordial level.

And, if you’re really lucky, you might also be greeted by an “offering” such as a delicate sand castle or a work of what is typically called “earth art”. Unlike a meandering Andy Goldsworthy stone wall, such art is truly ephemeral. In this case, I’d call it “sea art”.

Last March, while strolling on an expansive beach on Longboat Key in Florida, my eye caught sight of such a creation assembled with natural found objects. The scale alone was impressive. Here were carefully chosen and beautifully placed snow white clamshells, fragments of coral, drift wood, snails, and a few sand dollars set on raked sand. Tall, weathered branches made for a backdrop on the dune with sea grasses and palm trees.

This was my first walk on this seven mile beach since my son, Daniel and I had landed the previous afternoon in Tampa after months of Covid-19 “sequestration”, compounded by medical family challenges. My husband, David insisted I take time for renewal. It was a special place since we had come here regularly with our children since the mid-1980’s. What a gift: to swim, relax by the Gulf of Mexico and purely by happenchance, encounter this enchanting work. I was mesmerized. Fortunately, the artist or craftsman who created it, was standing nearby. He introduced himself as Bob Dreyfus. Darkly tanned and with longish white hair, he began by telling me how the lower section of this sloped dune had been washed away by the recent high tide. “The full moon,” he said with a large smile. “I’ll just begin again.” For sure, he’s been doing this since he started making such works ten years ago.

Upon returning the next morning, I discovered an additional layout of clamshells and coral in curved, swirling, geometric patterns, stretching once again towards the water. Nothing is random here though and the details are just as attractive and intriguing as the whole. As he later wrote me: “This year’s work has a lot of symmetry and inspiration from Native American petroglyphs: the fish, the moon, the horned owl, and the human hand.” It also reminded me of Australian aboriginal art. Call it universal. Even more fundamentally, as Dreyfus explained: “The circle which never really ends is archetypal in many cultures.” Jung would be pleased.

Discovering by chance something both esthetic and ephemeral makes for a powerful experience. I was reminded of once seeing Tibetan monks meticulously laying out a complex sand mandala. Unlike these muted, neutral colors on the beach however, theirs included vibrant reds, blues and yellows —all symbolic colors. When finished and in the blink of an eye, they simply swept it all away just like the tide here. Non-attachment, a fundamental Buddhist worldview that leads to the cessation of suffering.

Below, is a series of photographs taken over the years by Bob Dreyfus. To my eyes, one resembles a raked Japanese garden; another, tossed necklaces. All come from natural (never plastic) found beach objects where: “The white contrast with the gray sand makes the shells and designs stand out.” Another source of contrast is his use of black, petrified “scute”, the scale cast off from sea turtles. Archaic for sure.

Concluding with a few images forged by nature itself, are a few photographs I’ve taken on Pacific beaches in Mexico and Hawaii.