To improve my English, I dedicate two hours every day to reading books out loud. Just before writing this article, I came across a sentence from a grammar book: “They collected dozens and dozens of shells on the beach.” Instantly, it transported me back to my days in Florida.

On February 8, 2014, I flew from Guangzhou, China, to Florida. My husband was working for a company located in Largo, and twelve days later, we tied the knot on Clearwater Beach. The wedding ceremony was hosted by a lady, while her husband captured beautiful photos of us.

While awaiting my green card, I brainstormed business ideas, such as selling Chinese tea cups and traditional dresses and T-shirts online. To understand the process, I purchased a wind chime from a flea market and listed it on eBay. However, two weeks went by without a single bid. Fortunately, I had only bought one chime! That’s when I shifted my focus to collecting and selling seashells—a business that required no initial investment. After reading stories about people successfully selling seashells, we believed that if we could find large and unique shells, we might strike it rich overnight!

During the weekends, we drove to the beach. While my husband fished, I scoured the shoreline for shells. There were seashells of all colors—white, brown, yellow, milky—varying in size and completeness. I experienced the excitement and hope of gold prospectors. When the tide receded and a big shell was left behind in the wet sand, it felt like discovering gold—a true treasure!

I amassed two large plastic bottles filled with shells. After sorting them by size and shape, I listed the largest ones on eBay. Although there were visitors to the listings, no one placed any bids. Our hopes of making a fortune overnight dwindled, and we settled for the idea of earning some extra cash. Eventually, even that ambition faded away. As the scorching summer days arrived, I became pregnant with my son, and the “seashell” business gradually disappeared from our lives. We didn’t even have the time or inclination to visit the beach anymore, particularly during vacations and weekends when finding a parking spot became a challenge.

In March 2016, we moved back to Minnesota, my husband’s hometown, where all his family and friends reside. I vividly remember the day I boarded the plane with my four-month-old son. It was my first time flying with a baby, and I posted on my WeChat, “Goodbye Florida, goodbye sunshine!” In that moment, I wasn’t dwelling on farewells or sunshine; I was brimming with hope for a new life in a different place.

Now, amidst the long and frigid snowy winter, I yearn for Florida intensely. I miss collecting seashells on the beach, feeling the tides brush against my feet, witnessing sea birds plunge into the water to catch fish, observing people playing volleyball or joyfully running along the sands, and watching little children frolic with the water and sand. I miss the mesmerizing golden sunsets, the playful dolphins, the passing ships, the boundless sea, the azure sky, the lush green trees, and the blooming flowers. I long for the deck where we used to fish, surrounded by a cluster of imposing stones. I reminisce about the shows on the plaza—dancing, singing, and acrobatic performances. I yearn for the fireworks on Independence Day nights. I miss the beautiful and alluring sea-maid mailboxes in the neighborhoods. I even miss the ducks and turtles in the pond behind our former house.

I wish I hadn’t forgotten those two bottles of seashells and often wonder how the landlord dealt with them. Like a dream, Florida becomes more distant with the passage of time, just like China. Even if I were to return, those cherished moments from the past cannot be reclaimed.

What can I do except move forward and embrace each day as it comes? I hope that years later, when I reflect on today, I will perceive it as interesting, meaningful, and exciting, much like how I currently reminisce about my days in Florida.