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Byline: Paula Bock
SEATTLE _ Something red caught Ellen Anderson's eye. Something sharp and bright, out of place amidst the muted colors and gentle rhythms of the dunes.
Anderson stepped off the little path that wound from her Ocean Park weekend house to a sandy stretch along the Washington coast. She parted the long beach grasses. She stared, shocked: a dead bird, its exposed belly filled with shiny bits of plastic. Chunks yellowed like old teeth, a perforated pink rectangle, hairy tan slivers. A red shard had first captured her attention.
"My gut hurt. It was a glorious day, sunny, a treasure in May. Everything was great. And then I saw that ...