After the storm: the shore reveals itself

There is nothing quite like the first flat calm morning after a week of Atlantic gales. The beach has been reorganised overnight: shingle pushed into new ridges, sand stripped from the lower shore, and along the strandline a fresh ribbon of rope, timber, cockle shells and sea glass. For anyone living within sight of the tideline, it is irresistible. A decent winter blow can turn up things buried for decades.

But a storm is not a reset button. It is a disturbance, and the shore takes weeks or months to recover. Responsible beachcombing simply means taking the pleasure without adding to the damage — a few small pieces in your pocket, a full bag of litter for the bin, and a shore left much as you found it.

Know the rules before you fill your pockets

The romantic idea of a free-for-all on the foreshore is a long way from the law. A few principles cover almost every situation in the UK.

• Removing sand, shingle or rock is not a casual act. Most of the foreshore belongs to the Crown, and taking bulk material normally needs permission. Filling a bucket with pebbles "for the garden" is exactly the practice that hollows out a beach over a season.
• Wreck material must be reported. Anything that appears to come from a vessel — stamped timber, brass fittings, a nameplate — should be reported to the Receiver of Wreck. There is a legal duty to do so, and reporting is straightforward. You may still be allowed to keep the find.
• Protected sites have their own rules. Vegetated shingle, dunes, saltmarsh and many intertidal areas are designated as special sites where collecting is restricted or banned. Read local notices before you set off, not after.
• Historic harbour fabric is not a souvenir. Old harbour walls, hulks and mooring bollards can carry legal protection. Never prise a stone from a harbour wall or break up a wrecked boat for driftwood.
• Fossils are different again. On some beaches, hammering and digging are prohibited altogether. Where collecting is allowed, loose material lying on the surface is the only sensible target.

Take a little, leave a lot

Sea glass, worn pottery, a single limpet shell, a piece of driftwood small enough to carry: these are the everyday pleasures, and taking a handful does no harm. The trick is to think in singles rather than handfuls. One good piece of green glass is a keepsake; a jarful is a harvest, and if every visitor took a jarful there would be nothing left for the next tide of children.

Leave the rest. Cuttlefish bones are a valuable calcium source for seabirds. Seaweed in the strandline feeds sandhoppers, which in turn feed the wading birds that winter here. Rotting kelp also helps hold the shingle and dune structure together. A strandline is not untidiness; it is a larder and a foundation.

Wildlife first: the fragile side of a wild shore

Winter is the hardest season for coastal wildlife, and much of it is invisible until you are almost on top of it. Sanderling and turnstone roost in tight, camouflaged flocks; ringed plover nest in scrapes that look like bare sand; seals haul out on quiet stretches to rest and, in autumn, to pup.

• Give roosting flocks a wide berth and keep dogs on a lead near them. One flushed flock can burn a day's worth of stored energy.
• Never approach a seal, and never try to push one back into the water. A pup that looks abandoned usually is not — call a local wildlife rescue instead.
• Stay off dunes and vegetated shingle. Those slow-growing plants are the only thing holding the surface in place.
• Turn rocks back gently and return them exactly as they were. The undersides are homes for crabs, anemones and small fish.

Anglers and beachcombers share the same tide line

Sea anglers and beachcombers often work the same stretch at the same state of tide, and they are natural allies. Anglers know the ground, the gutters and the weather patterns better than anyone, and many will happily tell you where the last blow has shifted the shingle. Return the favour by watching for casting and keeping well clear of rods on a harbour wall.

Angling's biggest contribution is what it takes away. Monofilament line, hooks, swivels and lead weights are the most damaging litter on the shore: line tangles birds and seals, hooks find paws, and lead accumulates in the sediment. Most serious anglers now carry old line home or use a recycling bin at the harbour, and any beachcomber should do the same with whatever they find — cut line into short lengths, bag it, and never leave a hook where a bare foot might land.

Kit, habits and a better walk home

None of this needs to be complicated. A little preparation turns a scramble over wet rocks into a safe and useful morning out.

• Check tide times and sea state before you go, and always have an escape route up the beach. Storms leave steep, unstable shingle banks that slump underfoot.
• Wear gloves and sturdy boots. Broken glass, rusty metal and old fishing tackle are the commonest hazards on a post-storm strandline.
• Carry a cloth bag for finds and a separate bag for litter. The two-minute beach clean — a few items on every walk — adds up faster than you would think.
• Photograph anything you are unsure about and leave it in place. If it is unusual, protected or possibly wreck material, a photograph is a far better souvenir than a prosecution.
• Wash your hands afterwards, and keep finds out of the kitchen until they have been cleaned.

The best beachcombing is the least noticeable. Walk lightly, take almost nothing, carry away what does not belong there, and the next storm will have something to show you again.