Special things take time. It took more than two million years to make the fine, white sand you'll find at a very special beach in the St. Pete-Clearwater area: Caladesi Island State Park.
With every soft, relaxing step you take, a million tiny particles crunch underfoot. But it wasn't always like that. In fact, the glowing white powder you see started as mountains of impenetrable quartz hundreds of miles away, massive geologic formations ground into tiny specks over the millennia and deposited on the Gulf coast by raging rivers that no longer exist.
Today, that pulverized mountain exists as a lovely barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico, just north of Clearwater.
But it's not just any barrier island. Caladesi is the national champion, the Best Beach in America, crowned so by "Dr. Beach," Stephen Leatherman, Ph.D, Director of Florida International University's Laboratory for Coastal Research.
The even better news is that all of the other barrier islands in the St. Pete-Clearwater area share Caladesi's roiled history of ancient sand: Fort De Soto Park, Pass-A-Grille Beach, St. Pete Beach, Madeira Beach, Redington Beach, Indian Rocks Beach, Belleair Beach, Clearwater Beach, Honeymoon Island State Park, and three beaches accessible only by boat – Shell Key, Three Rooker Bar and Anclote Key.
Truth is, unlike the darker, coarser sands you'll find on Florida's east coast and in the Keys – which are composed mostly of ground-up bits of shell and coral – our carpet of white is velvet-smooth and cool to the bottom of a bare foot. Some say it looks like snow or sugar, but no matter what you think it looks like, rest assured you'll be taking some home with you: these talcum-like white crystals have a way of sneaking into your shoes or your hat, then into your suitcase or even your purse or wallet.
But don't worry. Just consider this magical dust a gift from nature, a free souvenir of your visit to the St. Pete-Clearwater area, a natural residue of memories being made, a calling card to draw you back to these shores again and again.
Shell-Eat-Shell World
You see, humans are not the only creatures drawn to this lovely substance, a fact proven by the millions of shells you'll find embedded in it. Beaches that have lots of different shells, as these do, show that the water supports vibrant, healthy populations of univalves and bivalves, which make their homes in these colorful, intricate and impressive structures.
But shells have a story to tell, too, one very different from ours. It's a story of a daily battle for life out there on the bottom of the blue-green water we find so attractive, so photographable, so swimmable.
For example, you may find a shell that has a perfectly round, tiny hole in it, perfect for slipping onto a necklace or a bracelet. But that perfect circle in your new piece of jewelry is actually evidence that the shell's former inhabitant died a violent death, which is hard to imagine in the middle of all this beauty.
But it is so.
Pinellas County Park Naturalist Michael McGoff explains it to beach lovers: "Any of the coquinas, dosinias, surf clams, venus clams and others with a tiny, smoothly-drilled hole are the victims of a predatory snail. Before the shell washed up on the beach, it was a living creature. The predator attacked, held it down, bored a hole through its shell with its drill-like tongue, and then ingested the animal."
Every beach along this 35-mile pearl lace of barrier island beaches has shells like this. One such "battleground memorial" is at Shell Key beach. Shell Key Preserve is a 180-acre Gulf barrier island accessible only by boat, and most visitors arrive on passenger ferries from the nearby beach town of Pass-a-Grille.
As you stroll the beach look carefully and you will find that shell with the smooth, perfectly round hole. Keep it as a reminder that, in spite of appearances, it's a shell-eat-shell world out there.
Put a little sand in a Ziplock, too. It's a reminder that it took a lot of geologic conflict, and time, to create this very special place.
Psychologists say that beaches give us a peaceful feeling. Wherever the land, the water and the sky meet, they say, we humans experience serenity.
Maybe so.
But the shells and sand have a different story to tell.
