A beach is not only a sweep of sand, but shells of sea creatures, the sea glass, the seaweed, the incongruous objects washed up by the ocean.
An Irish folk song today introduced to me by Elena, who is learning to sing it. Dúlamán is a conversation between two seaweed collectors (seaweeds being useful as dyes and as food). One of the men wants to marry the other's daughter, but the father isn't too happy about it. In the end, the first fellow elopes with her anyway. The course of true love never did run smooth, eh?