Beach Glass - Alison

It was a perfect piece of sea glass. Rounded edges, smooth middle and slate blue coloring. How many years had it been tossed around to arrive here like this? As I walk, I see other pieces that need more time. I reach down and throw them back into the sea, one by one. I imagine them protesting as they hurtle through space. Willow and I call to these pieces, “see you next year after a few more adventures!” and continue looking for treasures.

I gather twisted pieces of wood and discarded coconut shells. “How do you decide what things to pick up?” Willow asks me. The youngest ones always ask the best questions. “Hmmm, I like pieces that have unusual angles and curves. Things that aren’t symmetrical. Objects that have been through some storms.” She doesn’t respond and we walk in silence for a while. “Mama, I just pick up things that I find interesting.” Tell me more. “I don’t pick up anything that is too sharp or too dull.” Wise kid.

I’ve always been drawn to those people, objects and places that have been tossed around a bit. I’m with Willow: too sharp or too dull and I leave it on the beach. Sometimes, however, pieces just need a little more time. I know most people walk right over those, but somehow it makes me feel like I am contributing by throwing those objects back to the sea.

Each year the pile of treasures builds as the days progress. Some we enjoy while we are here, others we take home. We make driftwood sculptures and cairns of beach glass on the window sill. I like mine piled on top of one another. I notice that Willow arranges each of treasures meticulously and separate from one another. Side by side, the styles complement. Such a pleasure to be doing something where there is no “right,” a game where no one strikes out and it’s impossible to score against your own team.

How do you know what to pick up, what to walk past and what to throw back? The answers are personal and take time. Last year I gathered mostly blue glass. I needed that intense beauty and color. Healing light. This year, I am drawn to the white, cloudy pieces. Empathy. Once you have your treasures what do you do with them? How do you arrange them? Always, I let the colors overlap, pile on top of each other. This way, I can see what rises.