Trapdoors and Torrential Rain: A Strange, Good Day in the Workshop

Right now in Kerikeri, Bay of Islands, we are being absolutely pounded. Rain. Wind. The works.

So I shut my door and went back to the bench.

A little while ago a friend gave me her daughter's shell collection. Cat's eyes. Beautiful little things. But did you know — they're not actually shells. They're trapdoors.

The cat's eye is the operculum — a hard disc that the turban snail uses to seal itself inside its shell when danger approaches. Like a tiny door.

Shutting out the world. The snail makes it. Wears it. Uses it for protection. And then leaves it behind on the ocean floor. For someone like me to find. Or in this case — to receive from a friend.

So today, while the storm raged outside — I shut my own door. Sat at my bench. And made something.

A mother and child necklace. Using these little trapdoors. These shells — I mean doors — that once protected something small and vulnerable. Felt like the right material for the right story.

In the meantime, I'm keeping my doors and windows firmly shut until this storm passes.

With sandy hands and a salty heart,
Rina