Manbarra Country - walking along the beach collecting shells, shells that whispered the oceans song in our ears. Memories of the shells that covered her shelves in her treasure room came rushing back. “The sound of home” I had always been told, and now here I was with my babies; home. Walking on Country, consuming it all with hungry eyes and even hungrier hearts. Shells bigger than our hands filled our old bright blue ice cream container. Excited squeals ripping through the salty air as we found bigger more beautiful ones, cone shells, spider shells, mermaid money. My heart full; we were finally home.